THE  CALLING  Sf 
DAN  MATTHEWS 


HAROLD 
BELL  WRIGHT 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 


COPYRIGHT.  1909. 
BY  HA  HOLD  BKLL  WRIGHT 


COPYRIGHT.  1909. 
BY  KI.SHUKY  W.  REYNOLDS 

PUBLISHED.  AUGUST.  1909 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


WILLIAM    WILLIAMS,   M.  D. 


Teeolote."  February  fifteenth,  19091 


250599 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     THE  HOME  OF  THE  ALLY 13 

II.     A  REVELATION 23 

III.  A  GREAT  DAY  IN  CORINTH 36 

IV.  WHO  ARE   THEY? 49 

Y.  HOPE  FARWELL'S  MINISTRY.  ...      56 

VI.  THE     CALLING    or    DAN    MAT 
THEWS  67 

VII.     FROM  DEBORAH'S  PORCH 77 

VIII.     THE  WORK  OF  THE  ALLY 86 

IX.  THE  EDGE  OF  THE  BATTLEFIELD     92 

X.     A  MATTER  OF  OPINION ~  96 

XI.     REFLECTIONS Ill 

XII.     THE  NURSE  FORGETS 121 

XIII.  DR.    HARRY'S   CASE 132 

XIV.  THAT  GIRL  OF  CONNER'S 146 

XV.  THE  MINISTER'S  OPPORTUNITY,   157 

XVI.     DAN  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE 163 

XVII.     THE  TRAGEDY 171 

XVIII.     To  SAVE  A  LIFE 175 

XIX.     ON  FISHING 180 

XX.  COMMON  GROUND.                            185 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEE  PAGE 

XXL     THE  WARNING 194 

XXII.     As  DR.  HARRY  SEES  IT 203 

XXIII.  A  PARABLE 214 

XXIV.  THE   WAY   OUT 220 

XXV.     A  LABORER  AND  His  HIRE 227 

XXVI.     THE  WINTER   PASSES 238 

XXVII.     DEBORAH'S  TROUBLE 245 

XXVIII.     A  FISHERMAN 250 

XXIX.     A  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS 256 

XXX.  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  CHURCH  264 

XXXI.     THE  KEALITY 269 

XXXII.     THE  BARRIER 277 

XXXIII.  HEARTS'  TRAGEDIES 283 

XXXIV.  SACRIFICED 289 

XXXV.     THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS 292 

XXXVI.     GOOD-BYE 306 

XXXVII.     EESULTS 311 

XXXVIII.     A  HANDFUL  OF  GOLD 319 

XXXIX.     THE  VICTORY  OF  THE  ALLY 328 

XL.     THE  DOCTOR'S  GLASSES 335 

XLI.     THE  FINAL  WORD 343 

XLII.     JUSTICE 348 

XLIII.     THE   HOME   COMING 357 

XLIV.  THE   OLD   TRAIL.                         .   362 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Drawn  by 
ARTHUR  I.  KELLER 

PAGE 

WlTH   THE   DOCTOR   THE   TWO   STRANGERS   IN 
CORINTH  TOOK  DENNY  TO  HIS  HOME 53 

" YOU  MUST  BE  IN  LIFE  A  FISHERMAN^ 183 

A  GOOD-BYE  CARESS  (Frontispiece) 309 

DAN    PLEADED    WITH    HIM.  .325 


The 

Calling  of  Dan  Matthews 


CHAPTEK  I. 

THE  HOME  OF  THE  ALLY 

"And  because  the  town  of  this  story  is  what  it  is,  there 
came  to  dwell  in  it  a  Spirit — a  strange,  mysterious  power — 
playful,  vicious,  deadly;  a  Something  to  be  at  once  feared 
and  courted ;  to  be  denied — yet  confessed  in  the  denial ;  a 
deadly  enemy,  a  welcome  friend,  an  all-powerful  Ally." 

| HIS  story  began  in  the  Ozark  Mountains.  It 
follows  the  trail  that  is  nobody  knows  how 
old.  But  mostly  this  story  happened  in 
Corinth,  a  town  of  the  middle  class  in  a  Middle 
Western  state. 

There  is  nothing  peculiar  about  Corinth.  The 
story  might  have  happened  just  as  well  in  any  other 
place,  for  the  only  distinguishing  feature  about  this 
town  is  its  utter  lack  of  any  distinguishing  feature 
whatever.  In  all  the  essential  elements  of  its  life, 
so  far  as  this  story  goes,  Corinth  is  exactly  like 
every  other  village,  town  or  city  in  the  land.  This, 
indeed,  is  why  the  story  happened  in  this  particular 
place. 

Years   ago,   when   the   railroad   first   climbed   the 

13 


OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

backbone  of  the  Ozarks,  it  found  Corinth  already 
located  on  the  summit.  Even  before  the  war,  this 
county-seat  town  was  a  place  of  no  little  importance, 
and  many  a  good  tale  might  be  told  of  those  exciting 
days  when  the  woods  were  full  of  guerrillas  and 
bushwhackers,  and  the  village  was  raided  first  by 
one  side,  then  by  the  other.  Many  a  good  tale  is 
told,  indeed ;  for  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  Corinth 
love  to  talk  of  the  war  times,  and  to  point  out  in 
Old  Town  the  bullet-marked  buildings  and  the  scenes 
of  many  thrilling  events. 

But  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  passing  gen 
eration,  with  their  sons  and  daughters,  like  better 
to  talk  of  the  great  things  that  are  going  to  be — 
when  the  proposed  shoe-factory  comes,  the  talked-of 
mills  are  established,  the  dreamed-of  electric  line  is 
built  out  from  the  city,  or  the  Capitalist  from  Some- 
where-else  arrives  to  invest  in  vacant  lots,  thereon  to 
build  new  hotels  and  business  blocks. 

The  Doctor  says  that  in  the  whole  history  of 
Corinth  there  are  only  two  events.  The  first  was 
the  coming  of  the  railroad ;  the  second  was  the  death 
of  the  Doctor's  good  friend,  the  Statesman. 

The  railroad  did  not  actually  enter  Corinth.  It 
stopped  at  the  front  gate.  But  with  Judge  Strong's 
assistance  the  fathers  and  mothers  recognized  their 
"golden  opportunity"  and  took  the  step  which  the 
eloquent  Judge  assured  them  would  result  in  a 
"glorious  future."  They  left  the  beautiful,  well- 
drained  site  chosen  by  those  who  cleared  the  wilder 
ness,  and  stretched  themselves  out  along  the  mud- 
flat  on  either  side  of  the  sacred  right-of-way — that 

14 


THE  CALLIXG  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

same  mud-flat  being,  incidentally,  the  property  of  the 
patriotic  Judge. 

Thus  Corinth  took  the  railroad  to  her  heart,  lit 
erally.  The  depot,  the  yards,  the  red  section-house 
and  the  water-tank  are  all  in  the  very  center  of  the 
town.  Every  train  while  stopping  for  water  (and 
they  all  stop)  blocks  two  of  the  three  principal 
streets.  And  when,  after  waiting  in  the  rain  or 
snow  until  his  patience  is  nearly  exhausted,  the 
humble  Corinthian  goes  to  the  only  remaining  cross 
ing,  he  always  gets  there  just  in  time  to  meet  a  long 
freight  backing  onto  the  siding.  Xowhere  in  the 
whole  place  can  one  escape  the  screaming  whistle, 
clanging  bell,  and  crashing  drawbar.  Day  and 
night  the  ramble  of  the  heavy  trains  jars  and  dis 
turbs  the  peacefulness  of  the  little  village. 

But  the  railroad  did  something  for  Corinth;  not 
too  much,  but  something.  It  did  more  for  Judge 
Strong.  For  a  time  the  town  grew  rapidly.  Ful 
fillment  of  the  Judge's  prophecies  seemed  immediate 
and  certain.  Then,  as  mysteriously  as  they  had 
come,  the  boom  days  departed.  The  mills,  factories 
and  shops  that  were  going  to  be,  established  them 
selves  elsewhere.  The  sound  of  the  builder's  ham 
mer  was  no  longer  heard.  The  Doctor  says  that 
Judge  Strong  had  come  to  believe  in  his  own  pre 
diction,  or  at  least,  fearing  that  his  prophecy  might 
prove  true,  refused  to  part  with  more  land  except 
at  prices  that  would  be  justified  only  in  a  great 
metropolis. 

Xeighboring  towns  that  were  born  when  Corinth 
was  middle-aged,  flourished  and  have  become  cities 

15 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  importance.  The  country  round  about  has  grown 
rich  and  prosperous.  Each  year  more  and  heavier 
trains  thunder  past  on  their  way  to  and  from  the 
great  city  by  the  distant  river,  stopping  only  to  take 
water.  But  in  this  swiftly  moving  stream  of  life 
Corinth  is  caught  in  an  eddy.  Her  small  world  has 
come  to  swing  in  a  very  small  circle — it  can  scarcely 
be  said  to  swing  at  all.  The  very  children  stop 
growing  when  they  become  men  and  women,  and  are 
content  to  dream  the  dreams  their  fathers'  fathers 
dreamed,  even  as  they  live  in  the  houses  the  fathers 
of  their  fathers  built.  Only  the  trees  that  line  the 
unpaved  streets  have  grown — grown  and  grown  until 
overhead  their  great  tops  touch  to  shut  out  the  sky 
with  an  arch  of  green,  and  their  mighty  trunks 
crowd  contemptuously  aside  the  old  sidewalks,  with 
their  decayed  and  broken  boards. 

Old  Town,  a  mile  away,  is  given  over  to  the 
negroes.  The  few  buildings  that  remain  are  fallen 
into  ruin,  save  as  they  are  patched  up  by  their  dusky 
tenantSo  And  on  the  hill,  the  old  Academy  with 
its  broken  windows,  crumbling  walls,  and  fallen 
chimneys,  stands  a  pitiful  witness  of  an  honor  and 
dignity  that  is  gone. 

Poor  Corinth!  So  are  gone  the  days  of  her  true 
glory — the  glory  of  her  usefulness,  while  the  days  of 
her  promised  honor  and  power  are  not  yet  fulfilled. 

And  because  the  town  of  this  story  is  what  it  is, 
there  came  to  dwell  in  it  a  Spirit — a  strange,  mys 
terious  power — playful,  vicious,  deadly;  a  Some 
thing  to  be  at  once  feared  and  courted ;  to  be  denied 


16 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

— yet  confessed  in  the  denial;  a  dreaded  enemy,  a 
welcome  friend,  an  all-powerful  Ally. 

But,  for  Corinth,  the  humiliation  of  her  material 
failure  is  forgotten  in  her  pride  of  a  finer  success. 
The  shame  of  commercial  and  civic  obscurity  is  lost 
in  the  light  of  national  recognition.  And  that  self- 
respect  and  pride  of  place,  without  which  neither 
man  nor  town  can  look  the  world  in  the  face,  is 
saved  to  her  by  the  Statesman. 

Born  in  Corinth,  a  graduate  of  the  old  Academy, 
town  clerk,  mayor,  county  clerk,  state  senator,  con 
gressman,  his  zeal  in  advocating  a  much  discussed 
issue  of  his  day,  won  for  him  national  notice,  and 
for  his  town  everlasting  fame. 

In  this  man  unusual  talents  were  combined  with 
rare  integrity  of  purpose  and  purity  of  life.  Poli 
tics  to  him  meant  a  way  whereby  he  might  serve  his 
fellows.  However  much  men  differed  as  to  the 
value  of  the  measures  for  which  he  fought,  no  one 
ever  doubted  his  belief  in  them  or  questioned  his 
reasons  for  fighting.  It  was  not  at  all  strange  that 
such  a  man  should  have  won  the  respect  and  friend 
ship  of  the  truly  great.  But  with  all  the  honors  that 
came  to  him,  the  Statesman's  heart  never  turned 
from  the  little  Ozark  town,  and  it  was  here  among 
those  who  knew  him  best  that  his  influence  for  good 
was  greatest  and  that  he  was  most  loved  and  honored. 
Thus  all  that  the  railroad  failed  to  do  for  Corinth 
the  Statesman  did  in  a  larger,  finer  way. 

Then  the  Statesman  died. 

It    was    the    Old    Town    Corinth    of    the    brick 


17 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Academy  days,  that  inspired  the  erection  of  a  monu 
ment  to  his  memory.  But  it  was  the  Corinth  of  the 
newer  railroad  days  that  made  this  monument  of 
cast-iron ;  and  under  the  cast-iron,  life-sized,  portrait 
figure  of  the  dead  statesman,  this  newer  Corinth 
placed  in  cast-iron  letters  a  quotation  from  one  of  his 
famous  speeches  upon  an  issue  of  his  day. 

The  Doctor  argues  in  language  most  vigorous  that 
the  broken  sidewalks,  the  permitted  insolence  of  the 
railroad,  the  presence  and  power  of  that  Spirit,  the 
Ally,  and  many  other  things  and  conditions  in 
Corinth,  with  the  lack  of  as  many  other  things  and 
conditions,  are  all  due  to  the  influence  of  what  he 
calls  "that  hideous,  cast-iron  monstrosity."  By  this 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  Doctor  is  something  of  a 
philosopher. 

The  monument  stands  on  the  corner  where  Holmes 
Street  ends  in  Strong  Avenue.  On  the  opposite 
corner  the  Doctor  lives  with  Martha,  his  wife.  It 
is  a  modest  home  for  there  are  no  children  and  the 
Doctor  is  not  rich.  The  house  is  white  with  old- 
fashioned  green  shutters,  and  over  the  porch  climbs 
a  mass  of  vines.  The  steps  are  worn  very  thin  and 
the  ends  of  the  floor-boards  are  rotted  badly  by  the 
moisture  of  the  growing  vines.  But  the  Doctor 
says  he'll  "be  damned"  if  he'll  pull  down  such  a  fine 
old  vine  to  put  in  new  boards,  and  that  those  will 
last  anyway  longer  than  either  he  or  Martha.  By 
this  it  will  be  seen  that  the  Doctor  is  something  of 
a  poet. 

On  the  rear  of  the  lot  is  the  wood-shed  and  stable ; 
and  on  the  east,  along  the  fence  in  front,  and  down 

18 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAE"  MATTHEWS 

the  Holmes  Street  side,  are  the  Doctor's  roses — the 
admiration  and  despair  of  every  flower-growing 
housewife  in  town. 

Full  fifty  years  of  the  Doctor's  professional  life 
have  been  spent  in  active  practice  in  Corinth  and  in 
the  country  round  about.  He  declares  himself  worn 
out  now  and  good  for  nothing,  save  to  meddle  in  the 
affairs  of  his  neighbors,  to  cultivate  his  roses,  and — 
when  the  days  are  bright — to  go  fishing.  For  the 
rest,  he  sits  in  his  chair  on  the  porch  and  watches 
the  world  go  by. 

"Old  Doctors  and  old  dogs/7  he  growls,  "how 
equally  useless  we  are,  and  yet  how  much — how 
much  we  could  tell  if  only  we  dared  speak !" 

He  is  big,  is  the  Doctor — big  and  fat  and  old.  He 
knows  every  soul  in  Corinth,  particularly  the  chil 
dren;  indeed  he  helped  most  of  them  to  come  to 
Corinth.  He  is  acquainted  as  well  with  every  dog 
and  cat,  and  horse  and  cow,  knowing  their  every 
trick  and  habit,  from  the  old  brindle  milker  that 
unlatches  his  front  gate  to  feed  on  the  lawn,  to  the 
bull  pup  that  pinches  his  legs  when  he  calls  on  old 
Granny  Brown.  For  miles  around,  every  road, 
lane,  by-path,  shortcut  and  trail,  is  a  familiar  way 
to  him.  His  practice,  he  declares,  has  well-nigh 
ruined  him  financially,  and  totally  wrecked  his  tem 
per.  He  can  curse  a  man  and  cry  over  a  baby ;  and 
he  would  go  as  far  and  work  as  hard  for  the  illiterate 
and  penniless  backwoodsman  in  his  cabin  home  as 
for  the  president  of  the  Bank  of  Corinth  or  even 
Judge  Strong  himself. 

No  one  ever  thinks  of  the  Doctor  as  loving  anyone 

19 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

or  anything,  and  that  is  because  he  is  so  big  and 
rough  on  the  outside:  but  every  one  in  trouble  goes 
to  him,  and  that  is  because  he  is  so  big  and  kind  on 
the  inside.  It  is  a  common  saying  that  in  cases  of 
trying  illness  or  serious  accident  a  patient  would 
rather  "hear  the  Doctor  cuss,  than  listen  to  the 
parson  pray."  Other  physicians  there  are  in 
Corinth,  but  every  one  understands  when  his  neigh 
bor  says:  "The  Doctor."  NOT  does  anyone  ever, 
ever  call  him  "Doc" ! 

After  all,  who  knows  the  people  of  a  community 
so  well  as  the  physician  who  lives  among  them  ?  To 
the  world  the  Doctor's  patients  were  laborers,  bank 
ers,  dressmakers,  scrub-women,  farmers,  servants, 
teachers,  preachers;  to  the  Doctor  they  were  men 
and  women.  Others  knew  their  occupations — he 
knew  their  lives.  The  preachers  knew  what  they 
professed — he  knew  what  they  practiced.  Society 
saw  them  dressed  up — he  saw  them — in  bed.  Why, 
the  Doctor  has  spent  more  hours  in  the  homes  of  his 
neighbors  than  ever  he  passed  under  his  own  roof, 
and  there  is  not  a  skeleton  closet  in  the  whole  town 
to  which  he  has  not  the  key. 

On  Strong  Avenue,  across  from  the  monument,  is 
a  tiny  four-roomed  cottage.  In  the  time  of  this 
story  it  wanted  paint  badly,  and  was  not  in  the  best 
of  repair.  But  the  place  was  neat  and  clean,  with  a 
big  lilac  bush  just  inside  the  gate,  giving  it  an  air  of 
home-like  privacy ;  and  on  the  side  directly  opposite 
the  Doctor's  a  fair-sized,  well-kept  garden,  giving  it 
an  air  of  honest  thrift.  Here  the  widow  Mulhall  lived 
with  her  crippled  son,  Denny.  Denny  was  to  have 

20 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

been  educated  for  the  priesthood,  but  the  accident 
that  left  him  such  a  hopeless  cripple  shattered  that 
dream;  and  after  the  death  of  his  father,  who  was 
killed  while  discharging  his  duties  as  the  town  mar 
shal,  there  was  no  money  to  buy  even  a  book. 

When  there  was  anything  for  her  to  do,  Deborah 
worked  out  by  the  day.  Denny,  in  spite  of  his 
poor,  misshapen  body,  tended  the  garden,  raising 
such  vegetables  as  no  one  else  in  all  Corinth  could — 
or  would,  raise.  From  early  morning  until  late 
evening  the  lad  dragged  himself  about  among  the 
growing  things,  and  the  only  objects  to  mar  the 
beauty  of  his  garden,  were  Denny  himself,  and  the 
great  rock  that  crops  out  in  the  very  center  of  the 
little  field. 

"It  is  altogether  too  bad  that  the  rock  should 
be  there,"  the  neighbors  would  say  as  they  occasion 
ally  stopped  to  look  over  the  fence  or  to  order  their 
vegetables  for  dinner.  And  Denny  would  answer 
with  his  knowing  smile,  "Oh,  I  don't  know!  It 
would  be  bad,  I'll  own,  if  it  should  ever  take  to 
roll  in'  'round  like.  But  it  lays  quiet  enough.  And 
do  you  see,  I've  planted  them  vines  around  it  to  make 
it  a  bit  soft  lookin'.  And  there's  a  nice  little  niche 
on  yon  side,  that  does  very  well  for  a  seat  now  and 
then,  when  I  have  to  rest." 

Sometimes,  when  the  Doctor  looks  at  the  monu 
ment — the  cast-iron  image  of  his  old  friend,  in  its 
cast-iron  attitude,  forever  delivering  that  speech  on 
an  issue  as  dead  today  as  an  edict  of  one  of  the 
Pharaohs — he  laughs,  and  sometimes,  even  as  he 
laughs,  he  curses. 

21 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

But  when,  in  the  days  of  the  story,  the  Doctor 
would  look  across  the  street  to  where  Denny,  with 
his  poor,  twisted  body,  useless,  swinging  arm,  and 
dragging  leg,  worked  away  so  cheerily  in  his  garden, 
the  old  physician,  philosopher,  and  poet,  declared 
that  he  felt  like  singing  hymns  of  praise. 

And  it  all  began  with  a  fishing  trip. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  REVELATION. 

"And  because  of  these  things,  to  the  keen  old  physician  and 
student  of  life,  the  boy  was  a  revelation  of  that  best  part  of 
himself — that  best  part  of  the  race." 

T  happened  on  the  Doctor's  first  trip  to  the 
Ozarks. 

Martha  says  that  everything  with  the 
Doctor  begins  and  ends  with  fishing.  Martha  has  a 
way  of  saying  such  things  as  that.  In  this  case  she 
is  more  than  half  right  for  the  Doctor  does  so  begin 
and  end  most  things. 

Whenever  there  were  grave  cases  to  think  out, 
knotty  problems  to  solve,  or  important  decisions  to 
make,  it  was  his  habit  to  steal  away  to  a  shady  nook 
by  the  side  of  some  quiet,  familiar  stream.  And  he 
confidently  asserts  that  to  this  practice  more  than  to 
anything  else  he  owes  his  professional  success,  and 
his  reputation  for  sound,  thoughtful  judgment  on 
all  matters  of  moment. 

"And  wrhy  not  ?"  he  will  argue  when  in  the  mood. 
"It  is  your  impulsive,  erratic,  thoughtless  fellow 
who  goes  smashing,  trashing  and  banging  about  the 
field  and  woods  with  dogs  and  gun.  Your  true 
thinker  slips  quietly  away  with  rod  and  line,  and 
while  his  hook  is  down  in  the  deep,  still  waters,  or 
his  fly  is  dancing  over  the  foaming  rapids  and 

23 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

swiftly  swirling  eddies,  his  mind  searches  the  true 
depths  of  the  matter  and  every  possible  phase  of  the 
question  passes  before  him." 

For  years  the  Doctor  had  heard  much  of  the  fish 
ing  to  be  had  in  the  more  unsettled  parts  of  the 
Ozarks,  but  with  his  growing  practice  he  could  find 
leisure  for  no  more  than  an  occasional  visit  to  nearby 
streams.  But  about  the  time  that  Martha  began 
telling  him  that  he  was  too  old  to  stay  out  all  day  on 
the  wet  bank  of  a  river,  and  Dr.  Harry  had  come  to 
relieve  him  of  the  heavier  and  more  burdensome 
part  of  his  practice,  a  railroad  pushed  its  way  across 
the  mountain  wilderness.  The  first  season  after  the 
road  was  finished  the  Doctor  went  to  cast  his  hook 
in  new  waters. 

In  all  these  after  years  those  days  so  full  of  mystic 
beauty  have  lived  in  the  old  man's  memory,  the 
brightest  days  of  all  his  life.  For  it  was  there  he 
met  the  Boy — there  in  the  Ozark  hills,  with  their 
great  ridges  clothed  from  base  to  crest  with  trees  all 
quivering  and  nodding  in  the  summer  breeze,  with 
their  quiet  valleys,  their  cool  hollows  and  lovely 
glades,  and  their  deep  and  solemn  woods.  And  the 
streams !  Those  Ozark  streams !  The  Doctor  won 
ders  often  if  there  can  flow  anywhere  else  such  waters 
as  run  through  that  land  of  dreams. 

The  Doctor  left  the  train  at  a  little  station  where 
the  railroad  crosses  White  River,  and  two  days 
later  he  was  fishing  near  the  mouth  of  Fall  Creek. 
It  was  late  in  the  afternoon.  The  Boy  was  passing 
on  his  way  home  from  a  point  farther  up  the  stream. 
Not  more  than  twelve,  but  tall  and  strong  for  his 

24 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN^  MATTHEWS 

age,  he  came  along  the  rough  path  at  the  foot  of  the 
bluff  with  the  easy  movement  and  grace  of  a  young 
deer.  He  checked  a  moment  when  he  saw  the  Doc 
tor,  as  a  creature  of  the  forest  would  pause  at  first 
sight  of  a  human  being.  Then  he  came  on  again, 
his  manner  and  bearing  showing  frank  interest,  and 
the  clear,  sunny  face  of  him  flushing  a  bit  at  the 
presence  of  a  stranger. 

"Hello,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  gruff  kindness, 
"any  luck  ?" 

The  boy's  quick  smile  showed  a  set  of  teeth — the 
most  perfect  the  physician  had  ever  seen,  and  his 
young  voice  was  tuned  to  the  music  of  the  woods, 
as  he  answered,  "I  have  caught  no  fish,  sir.'7 

By  these  words  and  the  light  in  his  brown  eyes 
the  philosopher  knew  him  instantly  for  a  true  fisher 
man.  He  noted  wonderingly  that  the  lad's  speech 
was  not  the  rude  dialect  of  the  backwoods,  while  he 
marveled  at  the  depth  of  wisdom  in  one  so  young. 
How  incidental  after  all  is  the  catching  of  fish,  to 
the  one  who  fishes  with  true  understanding.  The 
boy's  answer  was  both  an  explanation  and  a  question. 
It  explained  that  he  did  not  go  fishing  for  fish  alone ; 
and  it  asked  of  the  stranger  a  declaration  of  his 
standing — why  did  he  go  fishing?  What  did  he 
mean  by  fisherman's  luck? 

The  Doctor  deliberated  over  his  reply,  while 
slowly  drawing  in  his  line  to  examine  the  bait. 
Meanwhile  the  boy  stood  quietly  by  regarding  him 
with  a  wide,  questioning  look.  The  man  realized 
that  much  depended  upon  his  next  word. 

Then  the  lad's  youth  betrayed  him  into  eagerness. 

25 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Have  you  been  farther  up  the  river  just  around 
the  bend,  where  the  giant  cottonwoods  are,  and  the 
bluffs  with  the  pines  above,  and  the  willows  along 
the  shore?  Oh,  but  it's  fine  there!  Much  better 
than  this." 

He  had  given  the  stranger  his  chance.  If  the 
Doctor  was  to  be  admitted  into  this  boy's  world  he 
must  now  prove  his  right  to  citizenship.  Looking 
straight  into  the  boy's  brown  eyes,  the  older  fisher 
man  asked,  "A  better  place  to  catch  fish  ?" 

He  laughed  aloud — a  clear,  clean,  boyish  laugh  of 
understanding,  and  throwing  himself  to  the  ground 
with  the  easy  air  of  one  entirely  at  home,  returned, 
"No,  sir,  a  better  place  to  fish."  So  it  was  settled, 
each  understanding  the  other. 

An  hour  later  when  the  shadow  of  the  mountain 
came  over  the  water,  the  boy  sprang  to  his  feet  with 
an  exclamation,  "It's  time  that  I  was  going,  mother 
likes  for  me  to  be  home  for  supper.  I  can  just 
make  it." 

But  the  Doctor  was  loth  to  let  him  go.  "Where 
do  you  live  ?"  he  asked.  "Is  it  far  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  only  about  six  miles,  but  the  trail  is 
rough  until  you  strike  the  top  of  Wolf  Ridge." 

"Humph!  You  can't  walk  six  miles  before 
dark." 

"My  horse  is  only  a  little  way  up  the  creek,"  he 
answered,  "or  at  least  he  should  be."  Putting  his 
fingers  to  his  lips  he  blew  a  shrill  whistle,  which 
echoed  and  re-echoed  from  shore  to  shore  along  the 
river,  and  was  answered  by  a  loud  neigh  from  some 
where  in  the  ravine  through  which  Fall  Creek 

26 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

reaches  the  larger  stream.  Again  the  boy  whistled, 
and  a  black  pony  came  trotting  out  of  the  brush,  the 
bridle  hanging  from  the  saddle  horn.  " Tramp  and  I 
can  make  it  all  right,  can't  we  old  fellow  ?"  said  the 
boy,  patting  the  glossy  neck,  as  the  little  horse  rubbed 
a  soft  muzzle  against  his  young  master's  shoulder. 

While  his  companion  was  making  ready  for  his 
ride  the  Doctor  selected  four  of  the  largest  of  his 
catch — black  bass  they  were — beauties.  "Here," 
he  said,  when  the  lad  was  mounted,  "take  these 
along." 

He  accepted  graciously  without  hesitation,  and  by 
this  the  Doctor  knew  that  their  fellowship  was  firmly 
established.  "Oh,  thank  you !  Mother  is  so  fond  of 
bass,  and  so  are  father  and  all  of  us.  This  is  plenty 
for  a  good  meal."  Then,  with  another  smile, 
"Mother  likes  to  fish,  too ;  she  taught  me." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  him  wistfully  as  he  gathered 
up  the  reins,  then  burst  forth  eagerly  with,  "Look 
here,  why  can't  you  come  back  tomorrow?  We'll 
have  a  bully  time.  What  do  you  say  ?" 

He  lowered  his  hand.  "Oh,  I  would  like  to." 
Then  for  a  moment  he  considered,  gravely,  saying  at 
last,  "I  think  I  can  meet  you  here  day  after  tomor 
row.  I  ain  quite  sure  father  and  mother  will  be 
glad  for  me  to  come  when  I  tell  them  about  you." 

Was  ever  a  fat  old  Doctor  so  flattered?  It  was 
not  so  much  the  boy's  words  as  his  gracious  manner 
and  the  meaning  he  unconsciously  put  into  his 
exquisitely  toned  voice. 

He  had  turned  his  pony's  head  when  the  old  man 
shouted  after  him  once  more.  "Hold  on,  wait  a 

27 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

moment,  you  have  not  told  me  your  name.  I  am 
Dr.  Oldham  from  Corinth.  I  am  staying  at  the 
Thompson's  down  the  river." 

"My  name  is  Daniel  Howitt  Matthews/'  he  an 
swered.  "My  home  is  the  old  Matthews  place  on 
the  ridge  above  Mutton  Hollow." 

Then  he  rode  away  up  the  winding  Fall  Creek 
trail. 

The  Doctor  spent  the  whole  of  the  next  day  near 
the  spot  where  he  had  met  the  boy,  fearing  lest  the 
lad  might  come  again  and  not  find  him.  He  even 
went  a  mile  or  so  up  the  little  creek  half  expecting  to 
meet  his  young  friend,  wondering  at  himself  the 
while,  that  he  could  not  break  the  spell  the  lad  had 
cast  over  him.  Who  was  he?  He  had  told  the 
Doctor  his  name,  but  that  did  not  satisfy.  Nor, 
indeed,  did  the  question  itself  ask  what  the  old  man 
really  wished  to  know.  The  words  persistently 
shaped  themselves — What  is  he  ?  To  this  the  phy 
sician's  brain  made  answer  clearly  enough — a  boy,  a 
backwoods  boy,  with  unusual  beauty  and  strength  of 
body,  and  uncommon  fineness  of  mind ;  yet  with  all 
this,  a  boy. 

But  that  something  that  sits  in  judgment  upon  the 
findings  of  our  brain,  and,  in  lofty  disregard  of  us, 
accepts  or  rejects  our  most  profound  conclusions, 
refused  this  answer.  It  was  too  superficial.  It 
was  not,  in  short,  an  answer.  It  did  not  in  any  way 
explain  the  strange  power  that  this  lad  had  exerted 
over  the  Doctor.  • 

"Me,"  he  said  to  himself,  "a  hard  old  man  cal 
loused  by  years  of  professional  contact  with  mankind 

28 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  consequent  knowledge  of  their  general  cussed- 
ness!  Huh!  I  have  helped  too  many  hundreds  of 
children  into  this  world,  and  have  carried  too  many 
of  them  through  the  measles,  whooping-cough, 
chicken-pox  and  the  like  to  be  so  moved  by  a  mere 
boy." 

The  Thompsons  could  have  told  him  about  the  lad 
and  his  people,  but  the  Doctor  instinctively  shrank 
from  asking  them.  He  felt  that  he  did  not  care  to 
be  told  about  the  boy — that  in  truth  no  one  could 
tell  him  about  the  boy,  because  he  already  knew  the 
lad  as  well  as  he  knew  himself.  Indeed  the  feeling 
that  he  already  knew  the  boy  was  what  troubled  the 
Doctor ;  more,  that  he  had  always  lived  with  hin? ; 
but  that  he  had  never  before  met  him  face  to  face. 
He  felt  as  a  blind  man  might  feel  if,  after  living 
all  his  life  in  closest  intimacy  with  someone,  he  were 
suddenly  to  receive  his  sight  and,  for  the  first  time, 
actually  look  upon  his  companion's  face. 

In  the  years  that  have  passed  since  that  day  the 
Doctor  has  learned  that  the  lad  was  to  him,  not  so 
much  a  mystery  as  a  revelation — the  revelation  of  an 
unspoken  ideal,  of  a  truth  that  he  had  always  known 
but  never  fully  confessed  even  to  himself,  and  that 
lies  at  last  too  deeply  buried  beneath  the  accumulated 
rubbish  of  his  life  to  be  of  .any  use  to  him  or  to 
others.  In  the  boy  he  met  this  hidden,  secret,  un 
acknowledged  part  of  himself,  that  he  knows  to  be  the 
truest,  most  precious  and  most  sacred  part,  and  that 
he  has  always  persistently  ignored  even  while  always 
conscious  that  he  can  no  more  escape  it  than  he  can 
escape  his  own  life.  In  short,  Dan  Matthews  is  to 

29 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  Doctor  that  which  the  old  man  feels  he  ought  to 
have  been ;  that  which  he  might  have  been,  but  never 
now  can  be. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  forenoon  of  the  following 
day  when  the  Doctor  heard  a  cheery  hail,  and  the 
boy  came  riding  out  of  the  brush  of  the  little  ravine 
to  meet  his  friend  who  was  waiting  on  the  river 
bank.  As  the  lad  sprang  lightly  to  the  ground,  and, 
with  quick  fingers,  took  some  things  from  the  saddle, 
loosed  the  girths  and  removed  the  pony's  bridle, 
the  physician  watched  him  with  a  slight  feeling  of — 
was  it  envy  or  regret?  "You  are  early,"  he  said. 

The  boy  laughed.  "I  would  have  come  earlier 
if  I  could."  Then,  dismissing  the  little  horse,  he 
turned  eagerly,  "Have  you  been  there  yet — to  that 
place  up  the  river?" 

"Indeed  I  have  not,"  said  the  Doctor.  "I  have 
been  waiting  for  you  to  show  me." 

He  was  delighted  at  this,  and  very  soon  was  lead 
ing  the  way  along  the  foot  of  the  bluff  to  his  favorite 
fishing  ground. 

It  is  too  much  to  attempt  the  telling  of  that  day: 
how  they  lay  on  the  ground  beneath  the  giant-limbed 
cottonwoods,  and  listened  to  the  waters  going  past; 
how  they  talked  of  the  wild  woodland  life  about 
them,  of  flower  and  tree,  and  moss  and  vine,  and  the 
creatures  that  nested  and  denned  and  lived  therein; 
how  they  caught  a  goodly  catch  of  bass  and  perch, 
and  the  Doctor,  pulling  off  his  boots,  waded  in  the 
water  like  another  boy,  while  the  hills  echoed  with 
their  laughter ;  and  how,  when  they  had  their  lunch 
on  a  great  rock,  an  eagle  watched  hungrily  from  his 

30 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

perch  on  a  dead  pine,  high  up  on  the  top  of  the 
bluff. 

When  the  shadow  of  the  mountain  was  come  once 
more  and  in  answer  to  the  boy's  whistle  the  black 
pony  had  trotted  from  the  brush  to  be  made  ready  for 
the  evening  ride,  the  Doctor  again  watched  his  young 
companion  wistfully. 

When  he  was  ready,  the  boy  said,  "Father  and 
mother  asked  me  to  tell  you,  sir,  that  they — that  we 
would  be  glad  to  have  you  come  to  see  us  before  you 
leave  the  hills."  Seeing  the  surprise  and  hesitation 
of  the  Doctor,  he  continued  with  fine  tact,  "You 
see  I  told  them  all  about  you,  and  they  would  like 
to  know  you  too.  Won't  you  come  ?  I'm  sure  you 
would  like  my  father  and  mother,  and  we  would  be 
so  glad  to  have  you.  I'll  drive  over  after  you  to 
morrow  if  you'll  come." 

Would  he  go!  Why  the  Doctor  would  have  gone 
to  China,  or  Africa,  or  where  would  he  not  have 
gone,  if  the  boy  had  asked  him. 

That  visit  to  the  Matthews'  place  was  the  begin 
ning  of  a  friendship  that  has  never  been  broken. 
Every  year  since,  the  Doctor  has  gone  to  them  for 
several  weeks  and  always  with  increasing  delight. 
Among  the  many  households  that,  in  his  professional 
career,  he  has  been  privileged  to  know  intimately, 
this  home  stands  like  a  beautiful  temple  in  a  world 
of  shacks  and  hovels.  But  it  was  not  until  the 
philosopher  had  heard  from  Mrs.  Matthews  the 
story  of  Dad  Howitt  that  he  understood  the  reason. 
In  the  characters  of  Young  Matt  and  Sammy,  in 
their  home  life  and  in  their  children,  the  physician 

31 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

found  the  teaching  of  the  old  Shepherd  of  the  Hills 
bearing  its  legitimate  fruit.  Most  clearly  did  he 
find  it  in  Dan — the  first  born  of  this  true  mating  of 
a  man  and  woman  who  had  never  been  touched  by 
those  forces  in  our  civilization  which  so  dwarf  and 
cripple  the  race,  but  who  had  been  taught  to  find 
in  their  natural  environment  those  things  that  alone 
have  the  power  to  truly  refine  and  glorify  life. 

Understanding  this,  the  Doctor  understood  Dan. 
The  boy  was  well  born;  he  was  natural.  He  was 
what  a  man-child  ought  to  be.  He  did  not  carry 
the  handicap  that  most  of  us  stagger  under  so  early 
in  the  race.  And  because  of  these  things,  to  the 
keen  old  physician  and  student  of  life,  the  boy  was  a 
revelation  of  that  best  part  of  himself — that  best 
part  of  the  race.  With  the  years  this  feeling  of  the 
Doctor's  toward  the  boy  has  grown  even  as  their 
fellowship.  But  Dan  has  never  understood:  how 
indeed  could  he? 

It  was  always  Dan  who  met  the  Doctor  at  the  little 
wilderness  station,  and  who  said  the  last  good-bye 
when  the  visit  was  over.  Always  they  were  together, 
roaming  about  the  hills,  on  fishing  trips  to  the  river, 
exploring  the  country  for  new  delights,  or  revisiting 
their  familiar  haunts.  Dan  seemed,  in  his  quiet 
way,  to  claim  his  old  friend  by  right  of  discovery  and 
the  others  laughingly  yielded,  giving  the  Doctor — as 
Young  Matt,  the  father,  put  it — "a  third  interest  in 
the  boy." 

And  so,  with  the  companionship  of  the  yearly 
visits,  and  frequent  letters  in  the  intervening  months, 
the  Doctor  watched  the  development  of  his  young 

32 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

friend,  and  dreamed  of  the  part  that  Dan  would  play 
in  life  when  he  became  a  man.  And  often  as  he 
watched  the  boy  there  was,  on  the  face  of  the  old 
physician,  that  look  of  half  envy,  half  regret. 

In  addition  to  his  training  at  the  little  country 
school,  Dan's  mother  was  his  constant  teacher,  pass 
ing  on  to  her  son  as  only  a  mother  could,  the  truths 
she  had  received  from  her  old  master,  the  Shepherd. 
But  when  the  time  came  for  more  advanced  intel 
lectual  training  the  choice  of  a  college  was  left  to 
their  friend.  The  Doctor  hesitated.  He  shrank 
from  sending  the  lad  out  into  the  world.  He  fool 
ishly  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  that  splendid 
nature  coming  in  touch  with  the  filth  of  life  as  he 
knew  it.  "You  can  see,"  he  argued  gruffly,  "what  it 
has  done  for  me." 

But  Sammy  answered,  "Why,  Doctor,  what  is  the 
boy  for  ?"  And  Young  Matt,  looking  away  over 
Garber  where  an  express  train  thundered  over  the 
trestles  and  around  the  curves,  said  in  his  slow  way, 
"The  brush  is  about  all  cleared,  Doctor.  The  wil 
derness  is  going  fast.  The  boy  must  live  in  his  own 
age  and  do  his  own  work."  When  their  friend 
urged  that  they  develop  or  sell  the  mine  in  the  cave 
on  Dewey  Bald,  and  go  with  the  boy,  they  both  shook 
their  heads  emphatically,  saying,  "No,  Doctor,  we 
belong  to  the  hills." 

When  the  boy  finally  left  his  mountain  home  for 
a  school  in  the  distant  city,  he  had  grown  to  be  a 
man  to  fill  the  heart  of  every  lover  of  his  race  with 
pride.  With  his  father's  powerful  frame  and  close- 
knit  muscles,  and  the  healthy  life  of  the  woods  and 

33 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAK  MATTHEWS 

hills  leaping  in  his  veins,  his  splendid  body  and 
physical  strength  were  refined  and  dominated  by  the 
mind  and  spirit  of  his  mother.  His  shaggy,  red- 
brown  hair  was  like  his  father's  but  his  eyes  were  his 
mother's  eyes,  with  that  same  trick  of  expression, 
that  wide  questioning  gaze,  that  seemed  to  demand 
every  vital  truth  in  whatever  came  under  his  con 
sideration.  He  had,  too,  his  mother's  quick  way  of 
grasping  your  thoughts  almost  before  you  yourself 
were  fully  conscious  of  them,  with  that  same  saving 
sense  of  humor  that  made  Sammy  Lane  the  life  and 
sunshine  of  the  countryside. 

"Big  Dan,"  the  people  of  the  hills  had  come  to  call 
him  and  "Big  Dan"  they  called  him  in  the  school. 
For,  in  the  young  life  of  the  schools,  as  in  the  coun 
try,  there  is  a  spirit  that  names  men  with  names 
that  fit. 

Secretly  the  Doctor  had  hoped  that  Dan  would 
choose  the  profession  so  dear  to  him.  What  an  ideal 
physician  he  would  make,  with  that  clean,  powerful, 
well  balanced  nature;  and  above  all  with  that  love 
for  his  race,  and  his  passion  to  serve  mankind  that 
was  the  dominant  note  in  his  character.  The  boy 
would  be  the  kind  of  a  physician  that  the  old  Doctor 
had  hoped  to  be.  So  he  planned  and  dreamed  for 
Dan  as  he  had  planned  and  dreamed  for  himself, 
thinking  to  see  the  dreams  that  he  had  failed  to  live, 
realized  in  the  boy. 

It  was  a  severe  shock  to  the  Doctor  when  that 
letter  came  telling  him  of  Dan's  choice  of  a  profes 
sion.  For  the  first  time  the  boy  had  disappointed 
him,  disappointed  him  bitterly. 

34 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

Seizing  his  fishing  tackle  the  old  man  fled  to  the 
nearest  stream.  And  there  gazing  into  the  deep, 
still  waters,  where  he  had  cast  his  hook,  he  came  to 
understand.  It  was  that  same  dominant  note  in 
the  boy's  life,  that  inborn  passion  to  serve,  that 
fixed  principle  in  his  character  that  his  life  must 
be  of  the  greatest  possible  worth  to  the  world,  that 
had  led  him  to  make  his  choice.  With  that  instinct 
born  in  him,  coming  from  the  influence  of  the  old 
Shepherd  upon  his  father  and  mother,  the  boy  could 
no  more  escape  it  than  he  could  change  the  color  of 
his  brown  eyes. 

"But,"  said  the  Doctor  to  his  cork,  that  floated  on 
the  surface  in  a  patch  of  shadow,  "what  does  he 
know  about  it,  what  does  he  really  know  ?  He's  been 
reading  history — that's  what's  the  matter  with  him. 
He  sees  things  as  they  were,  not  as  they  are.  He 
should  have  come  to  me,  I  could  have — "  Just  then 
the  cork  went  under.  The  Doctor  had  a  bite.  "I 
could  have  told  him,"  repeated  the  fisherman  softly, 
"I — "  The  cork  bobbed  up  again — it  was  only  a 
nibble.  "He'll  find  out  the  truth  of  course.  He's 
that  kind.  But  when  he  finds  it!"  The  cork 
bobbed  again — "He'll  need  me,  he'll  need  me  bad!" 
The  cork  went  under  for  good  this  time.  Zip — and 
the  Doctor  had  a  big  one ! 

With  fresh  bait  and  his  hook  once  more  well  down 
toward  the  bottom  the  Doctor  saw  the  whole  thing 
clearly,  and  so  planned  a  way  by  which,  as  he  put  it, 
lie  might,  when  Dan  needed  him,  "stand  ~by" 


35 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  GREAT  DAY  IN  CORINTH. 

"Talk  of  the  responsibilities  of  age;  humph!  They  are 
nothing  compared  to  the  responsibilities  of  youth.  There's 
Dan,  now — '  " 

ORINTH  was  in  the  midst  of  a  street  fair. 
The  neighboring  city  held  a  street  fair  that 
year,  therefore  Corinth.  All  that  the  city 
does  Corinth  imitates,  thereby  with  a  beautiful  rural 
simplicity  thinking  herself  metropolitan,  just  as 
those  who  take  their  styles  from  the  metropolis  feel 
themselves  well  dressed.  The  very  Corinthian  clerks 
and  grocery  boys,  lounging  behind  their  counters  and 
in  the  doorways,  the  lawyer's  understudy  with  his 
feet  on  the  window  sill,  the  mechanic's  apprentice, 
the  high  school  youths  and  the  local  sporting  fra 
ternity — all  imitated  their  city  kind  and  talked 
smartly  about  the  country  "rubes"  who  came  to 
town;  never  once  dreaming  that  they  themselves, 
when  they  ago  to  town,"  are  as  much  a  mark  for  the 
like  wit  of  their  city  brothers.  So  Corinth  was  in 
the  midst  of  a  street  fair. 

On  every  vacant  lot  in  the  down  town  section 
were  pens,  and  stalls,  and  cages,  wherein  grunted, 
squealed,  neighed,  bellowed,  bleated,  cackled  and 
crowed,  exhibits  from  the  neighboring  farms.  In 
the  town  hall  or  opera  house  (it  was  both)  there 

36 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

were  long  tables  covered  with  almost  everything 
that  grows  on  a  farm,  or  is  canned,  baked,  preserved, 
pickled  or  stitched  by  farmers'  wives.  The  "Art 
Exhibit,"  product  mainly  of  Corinth,  had  its  place 
on  the  stage.  Upon  either  side  of  the  main  street 
were  booths  containing  the  exhibits  of  the  local 
merchants;  farm  machinery,  buggies,  wagons,  har 
ness  and  the  like  being  most  conspicuous.  The 
chief  distinction  between  the  town  and  country  ex 
hibits  were  that  the  farmer  displayed  his  goods  to 
be  looked  at,  the  merchant  his  to  be  sold.  It  was 
the  merchants  who  promoted  the  fair. 

In  a  vacant  store  room  the  Memorial  Church  was 
holding  its  annual  bazaar.  On  different  corners 
other  churches  were  serving  chicken  dinners,  or  ice 
cream,  or  in  sundry  ways  were  actively  engaged  for 
the  conversion  of  the  erring  farmer's  cash  to  the 
coffers  of  the  village  sanctuaries.  In  this  way  the 
promoters  of  the  fair  were  encouraged  by  the 
churches.  From  every  window,  door,  arch,  pole, 
post,  corner,  gable,  peak,  cupola — fluttered,  streamed 
and  waved,  decorations — banners  mostly,  bearing 
advertisements  of  the  enterprising  merchants  and  of 
the  equally  enterprising  churches. 

Afternoons  there  would  be  a  baseball  game  be 
tween  town  and  country  teams,  foot  races,  horse 
back  riding,  a  greased  pig  to  catch,  a  greased  pole  to 
climb  and  other  entertainments  too  exciting  to  think 
about,  too  attractive  to  be  resisted. 

From  the  far  backwoods  districts,  from  the  hills, 
from  the  creek  bottoms  and  the  river,  the  people 
came  to  crowd  about  the  pens,  and  stalls  and  tables ; 

37 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

to  admire  their  own  and  their  neighbors'  products 
and  possessions,  that  they  had  seen  many  times  be 
fore  in  their  neighbors'  homes  and  fields.  They 
visited  on  the  street  corners.  They  tramped  up  and 
down  past  the  booths.  They  yelled  themselves 
hoarse  at  the  games  and  entertainments,  and  in  the 
intoxication  of  their  pleasures  bought  ice  cream, 
chicken  dinners  and  various  other  things  of  the 
churches,  and  much  goods  of  the  merchants  who 
promoted  the  fair. 

The  Doctor  was  up  that  day  at  least  a  full  hour 
before  his  regular  time.  At  breakfast  Martha  looked 
him  over  suspiciously,  and  when  he  folded  his  napkin 
after  eating  only  half  his  customary  meal  she  re 
marked  dryly,  "It's  three  hours  yet  till  train  time, 
Doctor." 

Without  answer  the  Doctor  went  out  on  the  porch. 

Already  the  country  people,  dressed  in  their  holi 
day  garb,  bright-faced,  eager  for  the  long  looked  for 
pleasures,  were  coming  in  for  the  fair.  Many  of 
them  catching  sight  of  the  physician  hailed  him 
gaily,  shouting  good  natured  remarks  in  addition  to 
their  salutations,  and  laughing  loudly  at  whatever 
he  replied. 

It  may  be  that  the  good  Lord  had  made  days  as 
fine  as  that  day,  but  the  Doctor  could  not  remember 
them.  His  roses  so  filled  the  air  with  fragrance, 
the  grass  in  the  front  yard  was  so  fresh  and  clean, 
the  flowers  along  the  walk  so  bright  and  dainty,  and 
the  great  maples,  that  make  a  green  arch  of  the  street, 
so  cool  and  mysterious  in  their  leafy  depths,  that  his 


38 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

old  heart  fairly  ached  with  the  beauty  of  it.  The 
Doctor  was  all  poet  that  day.  Dan  was  coming ! 

It  had  worked  out  just  as  the  Doctor  had  planned 
it  on  that  fishing  trip  some  three  months  before.  At 
first  Martha  was  suspicious  when  he  broached  the 
subject.  Mostly  Martha  is  suspicious  when  her  hus 
band  offers  suggestions  touching  certain  matters,  but 
the  wise  old  philosopher  knew  what  strings  to  pull, 
and  so  it  all  came  out  as  he  had  planned.  Sammy 
had  written  him  expressing  her  gladness,  that  her  boy 
in  the  beginning  of  his  work  was  to  be  with  the 
friend  whose  counsel  and  advice  they  valued  so 
highly.  The  Doctor  had  growled  over  the  letter, 
promising  himself  that  he  would  "stand  by"  when 
the  boy  needed  him,  but  that  was  all  he  or  an  angel 
from,  heaven  could  do  now.  And  the  Doctor  had 
written  Dan  at  length  about  Corinth,  but  never  a 
word  about  his  thoughts  regarding  the  boy's  choice, 
or  his  fears  for  the  outcome. 

"There  are  some  things,"  he  reflected,  "that  every 
man  must  find  out  for  himself.  To  some  kinds  of 
people  the  finding  out  doesn't  matter  much.  To 
other  kinds,  it  is  well  for  them  if  there  are  those 
who  love  them  to  stand  by."  Dan  was  the  kind  to 
whom  the  finding  out  would  mean  a  great  deal,  so  the 
Doctor  would  "stand  by." 

There  on  his  vine  covered  porch  that  morning, 
the  old  man's  thoughts  went  back  to  that  day  when 
the  boy  first  came  to  him  on  the  river  bank,  and 
to  all  the  bright  days  of  Dan's  boyhood  and  youth 
that  he  had  passed  with  the  lad  in  the  hills.  "His 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

life — "  said  lie,  talking  to  himself,  as  he  has  a  way  of 
doing — "His  life  is  like  this  day,  fresh  and  clean 
and — "  He  looked  across  the  street  to  the  monument 
that  stood  a  cold,  lifeless  mask  in  a  world  of  living 
joy  and  beauty;  from  the  monument  he  turned  to 
Denny's  garden.  "And,"  he  finished,  "full  of  possi 
bilities." 

"Whatever  are  you  muttering  about  now?"  said 
Martha,  who  had  followed  him  out  after  finishing 
her  breakfast. 

"I  was  wishing,"  said  the  Doctor,  "that  I — that  it 
would  be  always  morning,  that  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  afternoon,  and  evening  and  night." 

His  wife  replied  sweetly,  "For  a  man  of  your  age, 
you  do  say  the  most  idiotic  things !  Won't  you  ever 
get  old  enough  to  think  seriously  ?" 

"But  what  could  be  more  serious,  my  dear  ?  If  it 
were  morning  I  would  always  be  beginning  my  life 
work,  and  never  giving  it  up.  I  would  be  always 
looking  forward  to  the  success  of  my  dreams,  and 
never  back  to  the  failures  of  my  poor  attempts." 

"You  haven't  failed  in  everything,  John,"  pro 
tested  Martha  in  softer  tones. 

"If  it  were  morning,"  the  philosopher  continued, 
with  a  smile,  "I  would  be  always  making  love  to  the 
best  and  prettiest  girl  in  the  state." 

Martha  tossed  her  head  and  the  ghost  of  an  old 
blush  crept  into  her  wrinkled  cheeks.  "There's  no 
fool  like  an  old  fool,"  she  quoted  with  a  spark  of  her 
girlhood  fire. 

"But  a  young  fool  gets  so  much  more  out  of  his 
foolishness,"  the  man  retorted.  "Talk  of  the  re- 

40 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAN  MATTHEWS 

sponsibilities  of  age;  humph!  They  are  nothing 
compared  to  the  responsibilities  of  youth.  There's 
Dan  now — "  He  looked  again  toward  the  monu 
ment. 

"My  goodness  me,  yes !"  ejaculated  Martha.  "And, 
I've  got  a  week's  work  to  do  before  I  even  begin  to 
get  dinner.  You  go  right  off  this  minute  and  kill 
three  of  those  young  roosters — three,  mind  you." 

"But,  my  dear,  he  will  only  be  here  for  dinner." 

"Never  you  mind,  the  dinner's  my  business.  Kill 
three,  I  tell  you.  I've  cooked  for  preachers  before. 
I  hope  to  the  Lord  he'll  start  you  to  thinking  of  your 
eternal  future,  'stead  of  mooning  about  the  past." 
She  bustled  away  to  turn  the  little  home  upside  down 
and  to  prepare  dinner  sufficient  for  six. 

When  the  Doctor  had  killed  the  three  roosters, 
and  had  fussed  about  until  his  wife  ordered  him  out 
of  the  kitchen,  he  took  his  hat  and  stick  and  started 
down  town,  though  it  was  still  a  good  hour  until 
train  time.  As  he  opened  the  front  gate  Denny 
called  a  cheery  greeting  from  his  garden  across  the 
street,  and  the  old  man  went  over  for  a  word  with  the 
crippled  boy. 

"It's  mighty  fine  you're  lookin'  this  morning 
Doctor,"  said  Denny  pausing  in  his  work,  and  seat 
ing  himself  on  the  big  rock.  "Is  it  the  ten-forty  he's 
comin'  on?" 

The  Doctor  tried  to  appear  unconcerned.  He 
looked  at  his  watch  with  elaborately  assumed  care 
lessness  as  he  answered:  "I  believe  it's  ten-forty; 
and  how  are  you  feeling  this  morning,  Denny  ?" 

The  lad  lifted  his  helpless  left  arm  across  his  lap. 

41 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Oh  I'm  fine,  thank  you  kindly,  Doctor.  Mother's 
fine  too,  and  my  garden's  doing  pretty  good  for  me." 
He  glanced  about.  "The  early  things  are  all  gone, 
of  course,  but  the  others  are  doing  well.  Oh,  we'll 
,get  along;  I  told  mother  this  morning  the  Blessed 
Virgin  hadn't  forgotten  us  yet.  I'll  bet  them  pota 
toes  grew  an  inch  some  nights  this  summer.  And 
look  what  a  day  it  is  for  the  fair,  and  the  preacher  a 
comin'  too." 

The  Doctor  looked  at  his  watch  again,  and  Denny 
continued:  "We're  all  so  pleased  at  his  comin'. 
People  haven't  talked  of  anything  else  for  a  month 
now,  that  and  the  fair  of  course.  Things  in  this 
town  will  liven  up  now,  sure.  Seems  to  me  I  can 
feel  it — yes  sir,  I  can.  Something's  goin'  to  happen, 
sure." 

"Humph,"  grunted  the  Doctor,  "I  rather  feel  that 
way  myself."  Then,  "I  expect  you  two  will  be  great 
friends,  Denny," 

The  poor  little  fellow  nearly  twisted  himself  off 
the  rock.  "Oh  Doctor,  really  why  I — the  minister'll 
have  no  time  for  the  likes  of  me.  And  is  he  really 
goin'  to  live  at  Mrs.  Morgan's  there?"  He  nodded 
his  head  toward  the  house  next  to  his  garden. 

"That's  his  room,"  the  other  answered,  pointing  to 
the  corner  window.  "He'll  be  right  handy  to  us 
both." 

Denny  gazed  at  the  window  with  the  look  of  a 
worshiper.  "Oh  now,  isn't  that  fine,  isn't  it  grand ! 
That's  such  a  nice  room,  Doctor,  it  has  such  a  fine 
view  of  the  monument." 

"Yes,"  the  Doctor   interrupted,    "the  monument 

42 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  your  garden."  And  then  he  left  abruptly  lest 
he  should  foolishly  try  to  explain  to  the  bewildered 
and  embarrassed  Denny  what  he  meant. 

It  seemed  to  the  Doctor  that  nearly  every  one  he 
met  on  the  well-filled  street  that  morning,  had  a 
smile  for  him,  while  many  stopped  to  pass  a  word 
about  the  coming  of  Dan.  When  he  reached  the 
depot  the  agent  hailed  him  with,  "Good  morning, 
Doctor;  looking  for  your  preacher?" 

''My  preacher !"  The  old  physician  glared  at  the 
man  in  the  cap,  and  turned  his  back  with  a  few 
energetic  remarks,  while  two  or  three  loafers  joined 
in  the  laugh,  and  a  couple  of  traveling  men  who  were 
pacing  the  platform  with  bored  expressions  on  their 
faces,  turned  to  stare  at  him  curiously.  At  the 
other  end  of  the  platform  was  a  group  of  women, 
active  members  of  the  Memorial  Ladies'  Aid  who 
had  left  their  posts  of  duty  at  the  bazaar,  to  have  a 
first  look  at  the  new  pastor.  The  old  Elder,  Nathan 
Jordan,  with  Charity,  his  daughter,  was  just  com 
ing  up. 

"Good  morning,  good  morning,  Doctor,"  said 
Nathan  grasping  his  friend's  hand  as  if  he  had  not 
seen  him  for  years.  "Well  I  see  we're  all  here." 
He  turned  proudly  about  as  the  group  of  women 
came  forward,  with  an  air  of  importance,  the  Doctor 
thought,  as  though  the  occasion  required  their  pres 
ence.  "Reckon  our  boy '11  be  here  all  right,"  Nathan 
continued. 

"Our  boy!"  The  Doctor  caught  a  naughty  word 
between  his  teeth — a  feat  he  rarely  accomplished. 

The  ladies  all  looked  sweetly  interested.      One  of 

43 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

them  putting  her  arm  lovingly  about  Charity  cooed : 
"So  nice  of  you  to  come,  dear."  She  had  remarked 
to  another  a  moment  before,  "that  a  fire  wouldn't 
keep  the  girl  away  from  the  depot  that  morning." 

The  Doctor  felt  distinctly  the  subtle,  invisible 
presence  of  the  Ally,  and  it  was  well  that  someone 
just  then  saw  the  smoke  from  the  coming  train  two  or 
three  miles  away,  around  the  curve  beyond  the  pump 
ing  station. 

The  negro  porter  from  the  hotel  opposite  the  depot, 
came  bumping  across  the  rails,  with  the  grips  belong 
ing  to  the  two  traveling  men,  in  his  little  cart;  the 
local  expressman  rattled  up  with  a  trunk  in  his 
shaky  old  wagon;  and  the  sweet-faced  daughter  of 
the  division  track  superintendent  hurried  out  of  the 
red  section-house  with  a  bundle  of  big  envelopes  in 
her  hand.  The  platform  was  crowded  with  all  kinds 
of  people,  carrying  a  great  variety  of  bundles,  bas 
kets  and  handbags,  asking  all  manner  of  questions, 
going  to  and  from  all  sorts  of  places.  The  train 
drew  rapidly  nearer. 

The  Doctor's  old  heart  was  thumping  painfully. 
He  forgot  the  people,  he  forgot  Corinth,  he  forgot 
everything  but  the  boy  who  had  come  to  him  that  day 
on  the  river  bank. 

Swiftly  the  long  train  with  clanging  bell  and  snort 
ing  engine  came  up  to  the  depot.  The  conductor 
swung  easily  to  the  platform,  and,  watch  in  hand, 
walked  quickly  to  the  office.  Porters  and  trainmen 
tumbled  off,  and  with  a  long  hiss  of  escaping  air  and 
a  steady  puff-puff,  the  train  stopped. 


44 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

In  the  bustle  and  confusion  of  crowding  passen 
gers  getting  on  and  off,  tearful  good-byes  and  joyful 
greetings,  banging  trunks,  rattling  trucks,  hissing 
steam,  the  doctor  watched.  Then  he  saw  him,  his 
handsome  head  towering  above  the  pushing,  jostling 
crowd.  The  Doctor  could  not  get  to  him,  and  with 
difficulty  restrained  a  shout.  But  Dan  with  his 
back  to  them  all  pushed  his  way  to  an  open  window 
of  the  car  he  had  just  left,  where  a  woman's  face 
turned  to  him  in  earnest  conversation. 

"There  he  is,"  said  the  Doctor,  "that  tall  fellow 
by  the  window  there." 

At  his  words  the  physician  heard  an  exclamation, 
and,  glancing  back,  saw  the  women  staring  eagerly, 
while  Charity's  face  wore  a  look  of  painful  doubt 
and  disappointment.  The  Elder's  countenance  was 
stern  and  frowning. 

"Seems  mightily  interested,"  said  one,  suggest 
ively. 

"What  a  pretty  face,"  added  another,  also  sug 
gestively. 

The  Doctor  spoke  quickly,  "Why  that's—"  Then 
he  stopped  with  an  expression  on  his  face  that  came 
very  near  being  a  malicious  grin. 

The  conductor,  watch  again  in.  hand,  shouted,  the 
porters  stepped  aboard,  the  bell  rang,  the  engineer, 
with  his  long  oil-can,  swung  to  his  cab,  slowly  the 
heavy  train  began  to  gather  headway.  As  it  went 
Dan  walked  along  the  platform  beside  that  open 
window,  until  he  could  no  longer  keep  pace  with  the 
moving  car.  Then  with  a  final  wave  of  his  hand 


45 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

he  stood  looking  after  the  train,  seemingly  uncon 
scious  of  everything  but  that  one  who  was  being 
carried  so  quickly  beyond  his  sight. 

He  was  standing  so  when  his  old  friend  grasped 
his  arm.  He  turned  with  a  start.  "Doctor !" 

What  a  handsome  fellow  he  was,  with  his  father's 
great  body,  powerful  limbs  and  shaggy  red-brown 
hair;  and  his  mother's  eyes  and  mouth,  and  her 
spirit  ruling  within  him,  making  you  feel  that  he 
was  clean  through  and  through.  It  was  no  wonder 
people  stood  around  looking  at  him.  The  Doctor 
felt  again  that  old,  mysterious  spell,  that  feeling  that 
the  boy  was  a  revelation  to  him  of  something  he  had 
always  known,  the  living  embodiment  of  a  truth 
never  acknowledged.  And  his  heart  swelled  with 
pride  as  he  turned  to  lead  Dan  up  to  Elder  Jordan 
and  his  company. 

The  church  ladies,  old  in  experience  with  preach 
ers,  seemed  strangely  embarrassed.  This  one  was 
somehow  so  different  from  those  they  had  known  be 
fore,  but  their  eyes  were  full  of  admiration.  Char 
ity's  voice  trembled  as  she  bade  him  welcome.  Na 
thaniel's  manner  was  that  of  a  judge.  Dan  himself, 
was  as  calm  and  self  possessed  as  if  he  and  the  Doctor 
were  alone  on  the  bank  of  some  river,  far  from 
church  and  church  people.  But  the  Doctor  thought 
that  the  boy  flinched  a  bit  when  he  introduced  him 
as  Eeverend  Matthews.  Perhaps,  though,  it  was 
merely  the  Doctor's  fancy.  The  old  man  felt  too, 
even  as  he  presented  Dan  to  his  people,  that  there 
had  come  between  himself  and  the  boy  a  something 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

that  was  never  there  before,  and  it  troubled  him  not 
a  little.  But  perhaps  this,  too,  was  but  a  fancy. 

At  any  rate  the  old  man  must  have  been  somewhat 
excited  for  when  the  introductions  were  over,  and 
the  company  was  leaving  the  depot,  he  managed  to 
steer  Dan  into  collision  with  a  young  woman  who 
was  standing  nearby.  She  was  carrying  a  small 
grip,  having  evidently  arrived  on  the  same  train 
that  brought  the  minister.  It  was  no  joke  for  any 
one  into  whom  Big  Dan  bumped,  and  a  look  of  in 
dignation  flashed  on  the  girl's  face.  But  the  indig 
nant  look  vanished  quickly  in  a  smile  as  the  big 
fellow  stood,  hat  in  hand,  offering  the  most  abject 
apology  for  what  he  called  his  rudeness. 

The  Doctor  noted  a  fine  face,  a  strong  graceful 
figure,  and  an  air  of  wholesomeness  and  health  that 
was  most  refreshing.  But  he  thought  that  Dan 
took  more  time  than  was  necessary  for  his  apology. 

When  she  had  assured  the  young  fellow  several 
times  that  it  was  nothing.,  she  asked:  "Can  you 
tell  me,  please,  the  way  to  Dr.  Abbott's  office  ?" 

Dr.  Abbott!  The  Doctor's  own  office — Dr. 
Harry's  and  his  now.  He  looked  the  young  woman 
over  curiously,  while  Dan  was  saying:  "I'm  sorry, 
but  I  cannot.  I  am  a  stranger  here,  but  my 
friend—" 

The  older  man  interrupted  gruffly  with  the  neces 
sary  directions  and  the  information  that  Dr.  Abbott 
was  out  of  town,  and  would  not  be  back  until  four 
o'clock.  "Will  you  then  direct  me  to  a  hotel  ?"  she 
asked.  The  Doctor  pointed  across  the  track.  Then 
he  got  Dan  away. 

47 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  church  ladies,  with  Charity  and  her  father, 
were  already  on  their  way  back  to  the  place  where 
the  bazaar  was  doing  business.  Half  way  down 
the  block  the  Doctor  and  Dan  were  checked  by  a 
crowd.  There  seemed  to  be  some  excitement  ahead. 
But  in  the  pause,  Dan  turned  to  look  back  toward  the 
young  woman  who  had  arrived  in  Corinth  on  the 
same  train  that  had  brought  him.  She  was  coming 
slowly  down  the  street  toward  them. 

Again  the  thought  flashed  through  the  Doctor's 
mind  that  the  boy  had  taken  more  time  than  was 
necessary  for  his  apology. 


48 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHO  ARE  THEY  ? 

"And  the  old  man  pointed  out  to  Dan  his  room  across  the 
way — the  room  that  looked  out  upon  the  garden  and  the 
monument." 


UD  HAKDY,  who  lives  at  Windy  Cove 
on  the  river  some  eighteen  miles  "back" 
from  Corinth,  had  been  looking  forward 
to  Fair  time  for  months.  Xot  that  Jud  had 
either  things  to  exhibit  or  money  to  buy  things 
exhibited.  For  while  Jud  professed  to  own,  and 
ostensibly  to  cultivate  a  forty,  he  gained  his  liv 
ing  mostly  by  occasional  "spells  of  work"  on  the 
farms  of  his  neighbors.  In  lieu  of  products  of 
his  hand  or  fields  for  exhibition  at  the  annual  fair, 
Jud  invariably  makes  an  exhibition  of  himself,  never 
failing  thus  to  contribute  his  full  share  to  the  "other 
amusements,"  announced  on  the  circulars  and  in  the 
Daily  Corinthian,  as  "too  numerous  to  mention." 

The  citizens  of  the  Windy  Cove  country  have  a 
saying  that  when  Jud  is  sober  and  in  a  good  humor 
and  has  money,  he  is  a  fairly  good  fellow,  if  he  is 
not  crossed  in  any  way.  The  meat  of  which  saying 
is  in  the  well  known  fact,  that  Jud  is  never  in  a 
good  humor  when  he  is  not  sober,  that  he  is  never 
sober  when  he  has  money;  and  that  with  the  excep 
tion  of  three  or  four  kindred  spirits,  whose  admira 
tion  for  the  bad  man  is  equalled  only  by  their  fear 

49 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  him,  no  one  has  ever  been  able  to  devise  a  way 
to  avoid  crossing  him  when  he  is  in  his  normal  con 
dition. 

With  three  of  the  kindred  spirits,  Jud  arrived  in 
Corinth  that  day,  with  the  earliest  of  the  visitors, 
and  the  quartette  proceeded,  at  once,  to  warm  up 
after  their  long  ride.  By  ten  o'clock  they  were 
well  warmed.  Just  as  the  ten-forty  train  was  slow 
ing  up  at  the  depot,  Jud  began  his  exhibition.  It 
took  place  at  the  post  office  where  the  crowd  was 
greatest,  because  of  the  incoming  mail.  Stationing 
himself  near  the  door,  the  man  from  Windy  Cove 
blocked  the  way  for  everyone  who  wanted  to  pass 
either  in  or  out  of  the  building.  For  the  women 
and  young  girls  he  stepped  aside  with  elaborate, 
drunken  politeness  and  maudlin,  complimentary  re 
marks.  For  the  men  who  brushed  him  he  had  a 
scowling  curse  and  a  muttered  threat.  Meanwhile, 
his  followers  nearby  looked  on  in  tipsy  admiration 
and  "  'lowed  that  there  was  bound  to  be  somethin' 
doin',  for  Jud  was  sure  a-buntin'  trouble." 

Then  came  one  who  politely  asked  Jud  to  move. 
He  was  an  inoffensive  little  man,  with  a  big  star  on 
his  breast,  and  a  big  walking  stick  in  his  hand — the 
town  marshal.  Jud  saw  an  opportunity  to  give  an 
exhibition  worth  while.  There  were  a  few  opening 
remarks — mostly  profane — and  then  the  representa 
tive  of  the  law  lay  in  a  huddled  heap  on  the  floor, 
while  the  man  from  the  river  rushed  from  the  build 
ing  into  the  street. 

The  passing  crowd  stopped  instantly.  Scattered 
individuals  from  every  side  came  running  to  push 

50 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

their  way  into  the  mass  of  men  and  women,  until 
for  a  block  on  either  side  of  the  thoroughfare  there 
was  a  solid  wall  of  breathless  humanity.  Between 
these  walls  strolled  Jud,  roaring  his  opinion  and 
defiance  of  every  one  in  general,  and  the  citizens  of 
Corinth  in  particular. 

It  could  not  last  long,  of  course.  There  were 
many  men  in  the  crowd  who  did  not  fear  to  challenge 
Jud,  but  there  was  that  inevitable  hesitation,  while 
each  man  was  muttering  to  his  neighbor  that  this 
thing  ought  to  be  stopped,  and  they  were  waiting 
to  see  if  someone  else  would  not  start  first  to  stop  it. 

Nearly  the  length  of  the  block,  Jud  made  his 
triumphant  way;  then,  at  the  corner  where  the 
crowd  was  not  so  dense,  he  saw  a  figure  starting 
across  the  street. 

"Hey  there,"  he  roared,  "get  back  there  where 
you  belong!  What  th'  hell  do  you  mean?  Don't 
you  see  the  procession's  a  comin'  ?" 

It  was  Denny.  He  had  left  his  garden  to  go  to 
the  butcher's  for  a  bit  of  meat  for  dinner.  The 
crippled  lad  had  just  rounded  the  corner,  and,  forced 
to  give  all  his  attention  to  his  own  halting  steps,  did 
not  grasp  the  situation  but  continued  his  dragging 
way  across  the  path  of  the  drunken  and  enraged 
bully.  The  ruffian,  seeing  the  lad  ignore  his  loud 
commands,  strode  heavily  forward  with  menacing 
fists,  heaping  foul  epithets  upon  the  head  of  the 
helpless  Irish  boy. 

The  crowd  gasped. 

"Oh,  why  does  someone  not  do  something!" 
moaned  a  woman.  A  girl  screamed. 

51 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Several  men  started,  but  before  they  could  force 
their  way  through  the  press,  the  people  saw  a  stran 
ger,  a  well-dressed  young  giant,  spring  from  the 
sidewalk,  and  run  toward  the  two  figures  in  the 
middle  of  the  street.  But  Dan  had  not  arrived  upon 
the  scene  soon  enough.  Almost  as  he  left  the  pave 
ment  the  blow  fell,  and  Denny  lay  still — a  crumpled, 
pitiful  heap  in  the  dirt. 

Jud,  flushed  with  this  second  triumph,  turned  to 
face  the  approaching  stranger. 

"Come  on,  you  pink-eyed  dude!  I've  got  some 
fer  you  too.  Come  git  your  medicine,  you — " 

Dan  was  coming — coming  so  quickly  that  Jud's 
curses  had  not  left  his  lips  when  the  big  fellow 
reached  him.  With  one  clean,  swinging  blow  the 
man  from  Windy  Cove  was  lifted  fairly  off  the 
ground  to  fall  several  feet  away  from  his  senseless 
victim. 

There  was  an  excited  yell  from  the  crowd.  But 
Jud,  lean,  loose- jointed  and  hard  of  sinew,  had  the 
physical  toughness  of  his  kind.  Almost  instantly 
he  was  on  his  feet  again,  reaching  for  his  hip  pocket 
with  a  familiar  movement.  And  there  was  a  wild 
scramble  as  those  in  front  sought  cover  in  the  rear. 

"Look  out !   Look  out  I" — came  from  the  crowd. 

But  the  mountain  bred  Dan  needed  no  warning. 
With  a  leap,  cat-like  in  its  quickness,  he  was  again 
upon  the  other.  There  was  a  short  struggle,  a 
sharp  report,  a  wrenching  twist,  a  smashing  blow, 
and  Jud  was  down  once  more,  this  time  senseless. 
The  weapon  lay  in  the  dust.  The  bullet  had  gone 
wide. 

52 


WITH  THE  DOCTOR  THE  TWO  STRANGERS  IN   CORINTH  TOOK  DENNY 

TO  HIS  HOME 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  crowd  yelled  their  approval,  and,  even  while 
they  applauded,  the  people  were  asking  each  of  his 
neighbor :  "Who  is  he  ?  Who  is  he  ?" 

Several  men  rushed  in,  and  Dan,  seeing  the 
bully  safe  in  as  many  hands  as  could  lay  hold  of 
him,  turned  to  discover  the  young  woman  whom  he 
had  met  at  the  depot  kneeling  in  the  street  over  the 
still  unconscious  Denny.  With  her  handkerchief  she 
was  wiping  the  blood  and  dirt  from  the  boy's  fore 
head.  Dan  had  only  time  to  wonder  at  the  calmness 
of  her  face  and  manner  when  the  crowd  closed  in 
about  them. 

Then  the  Doctor  pushed  his  way  through  the 
throng,  and  the  people,  at  sight  of  the  familiar  figure, 
obeyed  his  energetic  orders  and  drew  aside.  A  car 
riage  was  brought  and  Dan  lifted  the  unconscious 
lad  in  his  arms.  The  Doctor  spoke  shortly  to  the 
young  woman,  aYou  come  too."  And  with  the 
Doctor  the  two  strangers  in  Corinth  took  Denny  to 
his  home. 

In  the  excitement  no  one  thought  of  introductions, 
while  the  people  seeing  their  hero  driving  in  the 
carriage  with  a  young  woman,  also  a  stranger, 
changed  their  question  from,  "Who  is  he  ?"  to  "Who 
are  they?" 

When  Denny  had  regained  consciousness,  and 
everything  possible  for  his  comfort  and  for  the  as 
sistance  of  his  distracted  mother,  had  been  done ;  and 
the  physician  had  assured  them  that  the  lad  would 
be  as  good  as  ever  in  a  day  or  two,  the  men  crossed 
the  street  to  the  little  white  house. 

"Well,"  ejaculated  Martha  when  Dan  had  been 

53 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

presented,  and  the  incident  on  the  street  briefly 
related,  "I'm  mighty  glad  I  cooked  them  three 
roosters." 

Dan  laughed  his  big,  hearty  laugh,  "I'm  glad,  too," 
he  said.  "Doctor  used  to  drive  me  wild  out  in  the 
woods  with  tales  of  your  cooking." 

The  Doctor  could  see  that  Martha  was  pleased  at 
this  by  the  way  she  fussed  with  her  apron. 

"We  always  hoped  that  he  would  bring  you  with 
him  on  some  of  his  trips,"  continued  Dan,  "we  all 
wanted  so  much  to  meet  you." 

To  the  Doctor's  astonishment,  Martha  stammered, 
"I — maybe  I  will  go  some  day."  Then  her  manner 
underwent  a  change  as  if  she  had  suddenly  remem 
bered  something.  "You'll  excuse  me  now  while  I 
put  the  dinner  on,"  she  said  stiffly.  "Just  make 
yourself  to  home;  preachers  always  do  in  this 
house,  even  if  Doctor  don't  belong."  She  hurried 
away,  and  Dan  looked  at  his  host  with  his  mother's 
questioning  eyes.  The  Doctor  knew  what  it  was. 
Dan  had  felt  it  even  in  the  house  of  his  dearest 
friend.  It  was  the  preacher  Martha  had  welcomed, 
welcomed  him  professionally  because  he  was  a 
preacher.  And  the  Doctor  felt  again  that  something 
that  had  come  between  him  and  the  lad. 

"Martha  doesn't  care  for  fishing,"  he  said  gently. 

Then  they  went  out  on  the  porch,  and  the  old  man 
pointed  out  to  Dan  his  room  across  the  way — the 
room  that  looked  out  upon  the  garden  and  the  monu 
ment. 

"Several  of  your  congregation  wanted  to  have  you 
in  their  homes,"  he  explained.  "Bitt  I  felt — I 

54 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

thought  you  might  like  to  be — it  was  near  me  you  see 
— and  handy  to  the  church."  He  pointed  to  the 
building  up  the  street. 

"Yes,"  Dan  answered,  looking  at  his  old  friend 
curiously — such  broken  speech  was  not  natural  to  the 
Doctor — "You  are  quite  right.  It  was  very  kind 
of  you ;  you  know  how  I  will  like  it  to  be  near  you." 
Then  looking  at  the  monument  he  asked  whose  it  was. 

The  Doctor  hesitated  again.  Dan  faced  him 
waiting  for  an  answer. 

"That — oh,  that's  our  statesman.  You  will  need 
time  to  fully  appreciate  that  work  of  art,  and  what 
it  means  to  Corinth.  It  will  grow  on  you.  It's 
been  growing  on  me  for  several  years." 

The  young  man  was  about  to  ask  another  question 
regarding  the  monument,  when  he  paused.  The 
girl  who  had  gone  to  Denny  in  the  street  was  coming 
from  the  little  cottage.  As  she  walked  away  under 
the  great  trees  that  lined  the  sidewalk,  the  two  men 
stood  watching  her.  Dan's  question  about  the  monu 
ment  was  forgotten. 

"I  wonder  who  she  is,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

The  Doctor  recalled  the  meeting  at  the  depot  and 
chuckled,  and  just  then  Martha  called  to  dinner. 

And  the  people  on  the  street  corners,  at  the  ladies' 
bazaar,  in  the  stores,  the  church  booths  and  in  the 
homes,  were  talking ;  talking  of  the  exhibition  of  the 
man  from  Windy  Cove,  and  asking  each  of  his  neigh 
bor:  "Who  are  they?" 


55 


CHAPTEK  V. 

HOPE  FARWELL'S  MINISTRY. 

"Useful  hands  they  were,  made  for  real  service." 

FTER  dinner  was  over  and  they  had  visited 
awhile,  the  Doctor  introduced  Dan  to  his 
landlady  across  the  way  and,  making  some 
trivial  excuse  about  business,  left  the  boy  in  his 
room.  The  fact  is  that  the  Doctor  wished  to  be 
alone.  If  he  could  have  done  it  decently,  he  would 
have  gone  oft'  somewhere  with  his  fishing  tackle.  As 
he  could  not  go  fishing,  he  did  the  next  best  thing. 
He  went  to  his  office. 

The  streets  were  not  so  crowded  now,  for  the 
people  were  at  the  ball  game,  and  the  Doctor  made 
his  way  down  town  without  interruption.  As  he 
went  he  tried  to  think  out  what  it  was  that  had 
come  between  him  and  the  boy  whom  he  had  known 
so  intimately  for  so  many  years.  Stopping  at  the 
post  office,  he  found  a  letter  in  his  care  addressed  to 
"Rev.  Daniel  H.  Matthews.'7  In  his  abstraction  he 
was  about  to  hand  the  letter  in  at  the  window  with 
the  explanation  that  he  knew  no  such  person,  when 
a  voice  at  his  elbow  said:  "Is  Brother  Matthews 
fully  rested  from  his  tiresome  journey,  Doctor  ?" 

The  Doctor's  abstraction  vanished  instantly,  he 
jammed  that  letter  into  his  pocket  and  faced  the 
speaker. 

56 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Yes,"  he  growled,  "I  think  Brother  Matthews  is 
fully  rested.  As  he  is  a  grown  man  of  unusual 
strength,  and  in  perfect  health  of  body  at  least,  and 
the  tiresome  journey  was  a  trip  of  only  four  hours, 
in  a  comfortable  railway  coach,  I  think  I  may  say 
that  he  is  fully  recovered." 

Then  the  Doctor  slipped  away.  But  he  had  dis 
covered  what  it  was  that  had  come  between  the  boy 
and  himself.  The  man,  Dan  Matthews,  was  no 
longer  the  Doctor's  boy.  He  was  "Reverend," 
"Brother,"  the  preacher.  All  the  morning  it  had 
been  making  itself  felt,  that  something  that  sets 
preachers  apart.  The  Doctor  wondered  how  his 
young  hill-bred  giant  would  stand  being  coddled 
and  petted  and  loved  by  the  wives  and  mothers  of 
men  who,  for  their  daily  bread,  met  the  world  bare 
handed,  and  whose  hardships  were  accepted  by  them 
and  by  these  same  mothers  and  wives  as  a  matter 
of  course. 

By  this  time  the  Doctor  had  reached  his  office, 
and  the  sight  of  the  familiar  old  rooms  that  had  been 
the  scene  of  so  many  revelations  of  real  tragedies  and 
genuine  hardships,  known  only  to  the  sufferer  and 
to  him  professionally,  forced  him  to  continue  his 
thought. 

"There  was  Dr.  Harry,  for  instance.  Who,  beside 
his  old  negro  housekeeper,  ever  petted  and  coddled 
him?  Who  ever  thought  of  setting  him  apart? 
Whoever  asked  if  he  were  rested  from  his  tiresome 
journey — journeys  made  not  in  comfortable  coaches 
on  the  railroad,  but  in  his  buggy  over  all  kinds  of 
roads,  at  all  times  of  day  or  night,  in  all  sorts  of 

57 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

weather  winter  and  summer,  rain  and  sleet  and 
snow?  Whoever  'Reverended'  or  'Brothered'  him? 
Oh  no,  he  was  only  a  man,  a  physician.  It  was  his 
business  to  kill  himself  trying  to  keep  other  people 
alive." 

Dr.  Harry  Abbott  had  been  first,  the  Doctor's 
assistant,  then  his  partner,  and  now  at  last  his  suc 
cessor.  Of  a  fine  old  Southern  family,  his  people 
had  lost  everything  in  the  war  when  Harry  was  only  a 
lad.  The  father  was  killed  in  battle  and  the  mother 
died  a  year  later,  leaving  the  boy  alone  in  the  world. 
Thrown  upon  his  own  resources  for  the  necessities  of 
life,  he  had  managed  somehow  to  live  and  to  educate 
himself,  besides  working  his  way  through  both  pre 
paratory  and  medical  schools,  choosing  his  profes 
sion  for  love  of  it.  He  came  to  Dr.  Oldham  from 
school,  when  the  Doctor  was  beginning  to  feel  the 
burden  of  his  large  practice  too  heavily,  and  it  was 
while  he  was  the  old  physician's  assistant  that  the 
people  learned  to  call  him  Dr.  Harry.  And  Dr. 
Harry  he  is  to  this  day.  How  that  boy  has  worked ! 
His  profession  and  his  church  (for  he  is  a  memoer,  a 
deacon  now,  in  the  Memorial  Church)  have  occupied 
every  working  minute  of  his  life,  and  many  hours 
beside  that  he  should  have  given  to  sleep. 

As  the  months  passed  Dr.  Oldham  placed  more 
and  more  responsibilities  upon  him,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  second  year  took  him  into  full  partnership. 
It  was  about  this  time  that  Dr.  Harry  bought  the  old 
Wilson  Carter  place,  and  brought  from  his  boyhood 
home  two  former  slaves  of  his  father  to  keep  house 
for  him,  Old  Uncle  George  and  his  wife  Mam  Liz. 

58 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAN  MATTHEWS 

Every  year  the  younger  man  took  more  and  more 
of  the  load  from  his  partner's  shoulders,  until  the 
older  physician  retired  from  active  practice ;  and 
never  has  there  been  a  word  but  of  confidence  and 
friendship  between  them.  Their  only  difference  is, 
that  Harry  will  go  to  prayer  meeting,  when  the 
Doctor  declares  he  should  go  to  bed ;  and  that  he 
will  not  go  fishing.  Always  he  has  been  the  same 
courteous,  kindly  gentleman,  intent  only  upon  his 
profession,  keeping  abreast  of  the  new  things  per 
taining  to  his  work,  but  ever  considerate  of  the  old 
Doctor's  whims  and  fancies.  Even  now  that  Dr. 
Oldhain  has  stepped  down  and  out  Harry  insists  that 
he  leave  his  old  desk  in  its  place,  and  still  talks  over 
his  cases  with  him. 

The  Doctor  was  sitting  in  his  dilapidated  office 
chair  thinking  over  all  this,  when  he  heard  his 
brother  physician's  step  on  the  stairs.  Harry  came 
in,  dusty  and  worn,  from  a  long  ride  in  the  country 
on  an  all-night  case.  His  tired  face  lit  up  when  he 
saw  his  friend. 

"Hello,  Doctor !  Glad  to  see  you.  Has  he  come  ? 
How  is  he  ?"  While  he  was  speaking  the  physician 
dropped  his  case,  slipped  out  of  his  coat,  and  was 
in  the  lavatory  burying  his  face  in  cold  water  by  the 
time  the  other  was  ready  to  answer.  That  was 
Harry,  he  was  never  in  a  hurry,  never  seemed  to 
move  fast,  but  people  never  ceased  to  wonder  at  his 
quickness. 

"He's  all  right,"  the  Doctor  muttered,  his  mind 
slipping  back  into  the  channel  that  had  started  him 
off  to  thinking  of  his  fellow  physician.  "Got  in  on 

59 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  ten-forty.  But  you  look  fagged  enough.  Why 
the  devil  don't  you  rest,  Harry  ?" 

Standing  in  the  doorway  rubbing  his  face,  neck, 
and  chest  with  a  coarse  towel  the  young  man  laughed, 
"Rest,  what  would  I  do  with  a  vacation  ?  I'll  be 
all  right,  when  I  get  outside  of  one  of  Mam  Liz's 
dinners.  It  was  that  baby  of  Jensen's  that  kept  me. 
Poor  little  chap.  I  thought  two  or  three  times  he 
was  going  to  make  a  die  of  it  sure,  but  I  guess  he'll 
pull  through  now." 

Dr.  Oldham  knew  the  Jensens  well,  eighteen 
miles  over  the  worst  roads  in  the  country.  He 
growled  hoarsely:  "It'll  be  more  years  than  there 
are  miles  between  here  and  Jensen's  before  you  get  a 
cent  out  of  that  case.  You're  a  fool  for  making  the 
trip ;  why  don't  you  let  'em  get  that  old  bushwhacker 
at  Salem,  he's  only  three  miles  away  ?" 

Harry  pulled  on  his  coat  and  dropped  into  his 
chair  with  a  grin.  "What'll  you  give  me  to  collect 
some  of  your  old  accounts,  Doctor  ?  The  Jensens 
say  that  the  reason  they  have  me  is  because  you  have 
always  been  their  physician." 

Then  the  Doctor  in  characteristic  language  ex 
pressed  his  opinion  of  the  whole  Jensen  tribe,  while 
Harry  calmly  glanced  through  some  letters  on  his 
desk. 

"See  here,  Doctor,"  he  exclaimed,  wheeling  around 
in  his  chair  and  interrupting  the  old  man's  eloquent 
discourse.  "Here  is  a  letter  from  Dr.  Miles — says 
he  is  sending  a  nurse;  just  what  we  want."  He 
tossed  the  letter  to  the  other.  "There'll  be  the  deuce 
to  pay  at  Judge  Strong's  when  she  arrives.  Whew! 

60 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

I  guess  I  better  trot  over  home  and  get  a  bite  and 
forty  winks.  A  Jensen  breakfast,  as  you  may  re 
member,  isn't  just  the  most  staying  thing  for  a  civil 
ized  stomach,  and  I  need  to  be  fit  when  I  call  at  the 
Strong  mansion.  Wonder  when  the  nurse  will  get 
here." 

''She's  here  now,"  said  the  old  Doctor,  and  he  then 
told  him  about  the  meeting  at  the  depot  and  the  fight 
on  the  street.  "But  go  on  and  get  your  nap/'  he 
finished.  "I'll  look  after  her." 

Harry  had  just  taken  his  hat  when  there  came  a 
knock  on  the  door  leading  into  the  little  waiting 
room.  He  hung  his  hat  back  in  the  closet,  and 
dropped  into  his  chair  again  with  a  comical  expres 
sion  of  resignation  on  his  face.  But  his  voice  was 
cheerful,  when  he  said :  "Come  in." 

The  door  opened.  The  young  lady  of  the  depot 
entered.  The  old  physician  took  a  good  look  at  her 
this  time.  He  saw  a  girl  of  fine,  strong  form  and 
good  height,  with  clear  skin,  showing  perfect  health, 
large,  gray  eyes — serious  enough,  but  with  a  laugh 
back  of  all  their  seriousness,  brown  hair,  firm, 
rounded  chin  and  a  generous  sensitive  mouth.  Par 
ticularly  he  noticed  her  hands — beautifully  modeled, 
useful  hands  they  were,  made  for  real  service.  Al 
together  she  gave  him  the  impression  of  being  very 
much  alive,  and  very  much  a  woman. 

"Is  this  Dr.  Abbott  ?"  she  asked,  looking  at  Harry, 
who  had  risen  from  his  chair.  When  she  spoke  the 
old  man  again  noted  her  voice,  it  was  low  and  clear. 

"I  am  Dr.  Abbott,"  replied  Harry. 

"I  am  Hope  Farwell,"  she  answered.    "Dr.  Miles, 

61 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

you  know,  asked  me  to  come.  You  wanted  a  nurse 
for  a  special  case,  I  believe." 

"Oh,  yes,"  exclaimed  Harry,  "we  have  the  letter 
here.  We  were  just  speaking  of  you,  Miss  Farwell. 
This  is  Dr.  Oldham ;  perhaps  Dr.  Miles  told  you  of 
him." 

She  turned  with  a  smile.  "Yes  indeed,  Dr.  Miles 
told  me.  I  believe  we  have  met  before,  Doctor." 

The  girl  broke  into  a  merry  laugh  when  the  old 
man  answered,  gruffly:  "I  should  think  we  had.  I 
was  just  telling  Harry  there  when  you  came  in." 

Then  the  younger  physician  asked,  "How  soon 
can  you  be  ready  to  go  on  this  case,  Nurse  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  expression  of  sur 
prise.  "Why  I'm  ready  now,  Doctor." 

And  the  old  Doctor  broke  in  so  savagely  that  they 
both  looked  at  him  in  astonishment  as  he  said :  "But 
this  is  a  hard  case.  You'll  be  up  most  of  the  night. 
You're  tired  out  from  your  trip." 

"Why,  Doctor,"  said  the  young  woman,  "it  is  my 
business  to  be  ready  at  any  time.  Being  up  nights 
is  part  of  my  profession.  Surely  you  know  that. 
Besides,  that  trip  was  really  a  good  rest,  the  first 
good  rest  I've  had  for  a  long  time." 

"I  know,  of  course,"  he  answered.  "I  was  think 
ing  of  something  else.  You  must  pardon  me,  Miss. 
Harry  there  will  explain  that  I  am  subject  to  these 
little  attacks." 

"Oh,  I  know  already,"  she  returned  smiling.  "Dr. 
Miles  told  me  all  about  you."  And  there  was  some 
thing  in  her  laughing  gray  eyes  that  made  the  rough 


62 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

old  man  wonder  just  what  it  was  that  his  friend 
Miles  had  told  her. 

"All  right,  get  back  to  business  you  two,"  he 
growled.  "I'll  not  interrupt  again.  Tell  her  about 
the  case,  Harry." 

The  young  woman's  face  was  serious  in  a  moment, 
and  she  gave  the  physician  the  most  careful  attention 
as  he  explained  the  case  for  which  he  had  written 
Dr.  Miles  to  send  a  trained  nurse  of  certain  quali 
fications. 

The  Judge  Strong  of  this  story  is  an  only  son  of 
the  old  Judge  who  moved  Corinth.  He  is  a  large 
man — physically,  as  large  as  the  Doctor,  but  where 
the  Doctor  is  fat  the  Judge  is  lean.  He  inherited, 
not  only  his  father's  title  (a  purely  honorary  one) 
but  his  father's  property,  his  position  as  an  Elder  in 
the  church,  and  his  general  disposition;  together 
with  his  taste  and  skill  in  collecting  mortgages  and 
acquiring  real  estate.  The  old  Judge  had  but  the  one 
child.  The  Judge  of  this  story,  though  just  passing 
middle  age,  has  no  children  at  all.  Seemingly  there 
is  no  room  in  his  heart  for  more  than  his  church  and 
his  properties — his  mind  being  thus  wholly  occupied 
with  titles  to  heaven  and  to  earth.  With  Sapphira, 
his  wife,  he  lives  in  a  big  house  on  Strong  Avenue, 
beyond  the  Strong  Memorial  Church,  with  never  so 
much  as  a  pet  dog  or  cat  to  roughen  the  well-kept 
lawn  or  romp,  perchance,  in  the  garden.  The  patient 
whom  Miss  Farwell  had  come  to  nurse,  was  Sap- 
phira's  sister,  a  widow  with  neither  child  nor  home. 
The  Judge  had  been  forced  by  his  fear  of  public 


63 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

sentiment  to  give  her  shelter,  and  he  had  been  com 
pelled  by  Dr.  Oldham  and  Dr.  Harry  to  employ  a 
nurse.  The  case  would  not  be  a  pleasant  one ;  Miss 
Farwell  would  need  all  that  abundant  stock  of  tact 
and  patience  which  Dr.  Miles  had  declared  she  pos 
sessed. 

All  this  Dr.  Harry  explained  to  her,  and  when  he 
had  finished  she  asked  in'  the  most  matter-of-fact 
tone :  "And  what  are  your  instructions,  Doctor  2" 

That  caught  Harry.  It  caught  the  old  Doctor, 
too.  Not  even  a  comment  on  the  disagreeable  posi 
tion  she  knew  she  would  have  in  the  Strong  house 
hold,  for  Harry  had  not  slighted  the  hard  facts !  She 
understood  clearly  what  she  was  going  into. 

A  light  came  into  the  young  physician's  eyes  that 
his  old  friend  liked  to  see.  "I  guess  Miles  knew 
what  he  was  talking  about  in  his  letter,"  said  the  old 
Doctor.  And  the  young  woman's  face  flushed 
warmly  at  his  words  and  look. 

Then  in  his  professional  tones  Dr.  Harry  in 
structed  her  more  fully  as  to  the  patient's  condition 
— a  nervous  trouble  greatly  aggravated  by  the  Judge's 
disposition, 

"Nice  job,  isn't  it,  Miss  Farwell  ?"  Harry  finished. 

She  smiled.     "When  do  I  go  on,  Doctor  ?" 

Harry  stepped  to  the  telephone  and  called  up  the 
Strong  mansion.  "This  you,  Judge  ?"  he  said  into 
the  instrument.  "The  nurse  from  Chicago  is  here; 
came  today.  We  want  her  to  go  on  the  case  at  once. 
Can  you  send  your  man  to  the  depot  for  her  trunk  ?v 

By  the  look  on  his  face  the  old  Doctor  knew  what 
Harry  was  getting.  The  younger  physician's  jaw 

64 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

was  set  and  his  eyes  were  blazing,  but  his  voice  wa* 
calm  and  easy.  "But  Judge,  you  remember  the 
agreement.  Dr.  Oldham  is  here  now  if  you  wish  to 
speak  to  him.  We  shall  hold  you  to  the  exact  letter 
of  your  bargain,  Judge.  I  am  very  sorry  but — . 
Very  well  sir.  I  will  be  at  your  home  with  the 
nurse  in  a  few  moments.  Please  have  a  room  ready. 
And  by  the  way,  Judge,  I  must  tell  you  again  that 
my  patient  is  in  a  serious  condition.  I  warn  you 
that  we  will  hold  you  responsible  if  anything  happens 
to  interfere  with  our  arrangements  for  her  treat 
ment.  Good-bye." 

He  turned  to  the  nurse  with  a  wry  face.  "It's 
pretty  bad,  Miss  Farwell." 

Then,  ringing  up  the  village  drayman,  he  ar 
ranged  to  have  the  young  woman's  trunk  taken  to  the 
house.  When  the  man  had  called  for  the  checks 
Harry  said:  "Now,  Nurse,  my  buggy  is  here,  and 
if  you  are  ready  I  guess  we  had  better  follow  your 
trunk  pretty  closely." 

From  the  window  the  old  Doctor  watched  them 
get  into  the  buggy,  and  drive  off  down  the  street. 
Mechanically  he  opened  the  letter  from  Dr.  Miles, 
which  he  still  held  in  his  hand.  "An  ideal  nurse, 
who  has  taken  up  the  work  for  love  of  it, — have 
known  the  family  for  years — thoroughbreds — just 
the  kind  to  send  a  Kentuckian  like  you — I  warn  you 
look  out, — I  want  her  back  again." 

The  Doctor  chuckled  when  he  remembered  Harry's 
look  as  he  talked  to  the  young  woman.  "If  ever  a 
man  needed  a  wife  Harry  does,"  he  thought.  "Who 
knows  what  might  happen  ?" 

65 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Who  knows,  indeed? 

Then  the  Doctor  went  home  to  Dan.  He  found 
him  in  Denny's  garden,  with  Denny  enthroned  on 
the  big  rock — listening  to  his  fun,  while  Deborah, 
from  the  house,  looked  on,  unable  to  believe  that  it 
was  "the  parson  sure  enough  out  there  wid  Denny," 
— Denny  who  was  to  have  been  a  priest  himself  one 
day,  but  who  would  never  now  be  good  for  much  of 
anything. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS. 

"'In  the  battle  of  life  we  cannot  hire  a  substitute;  what 
ever  work  one  volunteers  to  make  his  own  he  must  look  upon 
as  his  ministry  to  the  race.' " 

A!N",  with  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Oldham  were 
to  take  supper  and  spend  the  evening  at 
Elder  Jordan's.  Martha  went  over  early 
in  the  afternoon,  leaving  the  two  men  to  follow. 

As  they  were  passing  the  monument,  Dan  stopped. 
"Did  you  know  him  ?"  he  asked  curiously,  when  he 
had  read  the  inscription.  It  was  not  like  Dan  to  be 
curious. 

The  Doctor  answered  briefly:  "I  was  there  when 
he  was  born  and  was  his  family  physician  all  his 
life,  and  I  was  with  him  when  he  died." 

Something  in  the  doctor's  voice  made  Dan  look  at 
him  intently  for  a  moment,  then  in  a  low  tone :  "He 
was  a  good  man  ?" 

"One  of  the  best  I  ever  knew,  too  good  for  this 
town.  Look  at  that  thing.  They  say  that  expressed 
their  appreciation  of  him — and  it  does,"  he  finished 
grimly. 

"But,"  said  Dan,  in  a  puzzled  way,  turning  once 
more  to  the  monument,  "this  inscription — "  he  read 
again  the  sentence  from  the  statesman's  speech  on 
the  forgotten  issue  of  his  passing  day. 

67 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  Doctor  said  nothing. 

Then  gazing  up  at  the  cast-iron  figure  posed  stiffly 
with  outstretched  arm  in  the  attitude  of  a  public 
speaker,  Dan  asked :  "Is  that  like  him  ?" 

"Like  him!  It's  like  nothing  but  the  people  who 
conceived  it/'  growled  the  Doctor  indignantly.  "If 
that  man  were  living  he  would  not  be  always  talking 
about  issues  that  have  no  meaning  at  this  day.  He 
would  be  giving  himself  to  the  problems  that  trouble 
us  now.  This  thing,"  he  rapped  the  monument  with 
his  stick  until  it  gave  forth  a  dull,  hollow  sound,  "this 
thing  is  not  a  memorial  to  the  life  and  character  of 
my  friend.  It  memorializes  the  dead  issue  to  which 
he  gave  himself  at  one  passing  moment  of  his  life, 
and  which,  had  he  lived,  he  would  have  forgotten,  as 
the  changing  times  brought  new  issues  to  be  met  as 
he  met  this  old  one.  He  was  too  great,  too  brave,  to 
ever  stand  still  and  let  the  world  go  by.  He  was 
always  on  the  firing  line.  This  thing — "  he  rapped 
the  hollow  iron  shaft  again  contemptuously,  and  the 
hollow  sound  seemed  to  add  emphasis  to  his  words — 
'•'this  is  a  dead  monument  to  a  dead  issue.  Instead 
of  speaking  of  his  life,  it  cries  aloud  in  hideous  em 
phasis  that  he  is  dead." 

They  stood  silently  for  a  moment  then  Dan  said, 
quietly:  "After  all,  Doctor,  they  meant  well." 

"And  that,"  retorted  the  old  man  grimly,  "is  what 
we  doctors  say  when  we  see  our  mistakes  go  by  in 
the  hearse." 

They  went  on  up  the  street  until  they  reached  the 
church.  Here  Dan  stopped  again.  He  read  the 
inscription  cut  large  in  the  stone  over  the  door,  "The 

68 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Strong  Memorial  Church."  Again  Dan  turned  to  his 
friend  inquiringly. 

"Judge  Strong,  the  old  Judge,"  explained  the 
Doctor.  "That's  his  picture  in  the  big  stained-glass 
window  there." 

In  all  his  intentions  Nathaniel  Jordan  was  one 
of  the  best  of  men.  Surely,  if  in  the  hereafter,  any 
man  receives  credit  for  always  doing  what  his  con 
science  dictates,  Nathan  will.  He  was  one  of  those 
characters  who  give  up  living  ten  years  before  they 
die.  Nathan  stayed  on  for  the  church's  good. 

Miss  Charity,  the  Elder's  only  child  is — well,  she 
was  born,  raised  and  educated  for  a  parson's  wife. 
The  Doctor  says  that  she  didn't  even  cry  like  other 
babies.  At  three  she  had  taken  a  prize  in  Sunday 
school  for  committing  Golden  texts,  at  seven  she  was 
baptized,  and  knew  the  reason  why,  at  twelve  she 
played  the  organ  in  Christian  Endeavor.  At  four 
teen  she  was  teaching  a  class,  leading  prayer  meet 
ing,  attending  conventions,  was  president  of  the 
Local  Union,  and  pointed  with  pride  to  the  fact 
that  she  was  on  more  committees  than  any  other 
single  individual  in  the  Memorial  Church.  The 
walls  of  her  room  were  literally  covered  with 
badges,  medals,  tokens,  prizes  and  emblems,  with  the 
picture  of  every  conspicuous  church  worker  and 
leader  of  her  denomination.  Between  times  the  girl 
studied  the  early  history  of  her  church,  read  the 
religious  papers  and  in  other  ways  fitted  herself  for 
her  life  work.  Poor  Charity!  She  was  so  cursed 
with  a  holy  ambition,  that  to  her  men  were  not  men, 
they  simply  were  or  were  not  preachers. 

69 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

When  Dan  and  the  Doctor  reached  the  Jordan 
home  they  found  this  daughter  of  the  church  at  the 
front  gate  watching  for  them,  a  look  of  eager  hope 
and  expectancy  on  her  face.  The  Elder  himself  with 
his  wife  and  Mrs.  Oldham  were  on  the  front  porch. 
Martha  could  scarcely  wait  for  the  usual  greeting  and 
the  introduction  of  Dan  to  Mrs.  Jordan,  before  she 
opened  on  the  Doctor  with,  "It's  a  great  pity  Doctor, 
that  you  couldn't  bring  Brother  Matthews  here  before 
the  last  possible  minute ;  supper  is  ready  right  now. 
A  body  would  think  you  had  an  important  case,  if 
they  didn't  know  that  you  were  too  old  to  do  anything 
any  more." 

"We  did  have  an  important  case,  my  dear,"  the 
Doctor  replied,  'and  it  was  Dan  who  caused  our 
delay." 

"That's  it;  lay  it  on  to  somebody  else  like  you 
always  do.  What  in  the  world  could  poor  Brother 
Matthews  be  doing  to  keep  him  from  a  good  meal  ?" 

"He  was  studying — let  me  see,  what  was  it,  Dan  ? 
Art,  Political  Economy — or  Theology  ?" 

Dan  smiled.  "I  think  it  might  have  been  the 
theory  and  practice  of  medicine,"  he  returned.  At 
which  they  both  laughed  and  the  others  joined  in, 
though  for  his  life  the  Doctor  couldn't  see  why. 

"Well,"  said  the  Elder,  when  he  had  finished  his 
shrill  cackle,  "we  better  go  in  and  discuss  supper 
awhile;  that's  always  a  satisfactory  subject  at  least." 
Which  was  a  pretty  good  one  for  Nathaniel. 

When  the  meal  was  finished,  they  all  went  out  on 
the  front  porch  again,  where  it  soon  became  evident 
that  Nathaniel  did  not  propose  to  waste  more  time 

TO 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

in  light  and  frivolous  conversation.  By  his  familiar 
and  ponderous  "Ahem — ahem !"  even  Dan  understood 
that  he  was  anxious  to  get  down  to  the  real  business 
of  the  evening,  and  that  he  was  determined  to  do 
his  full  duty,  or — as  he  would  have  said — "to  keep 
that  which  was  committed  unto  him." 

"Ahem — ahem !"  A  hush  fell  upon  the  little  com 
pany,  the  women  turned  their  chairs  expectantly,  and 
the  Doctor  slipped  over  to  the  end  of  the  porch  to 
enjoy  his  evening  cigar.  The  Elder  had  the  field. 

With  another  and  still  louder  "Ahem !"  he  began. 
"I  am  sorry  that  Brother  Strong  is  not  here  this 
evening.  Judge  Strong  that  is,  Brother  Matthews; 
he  is  our  other  Elder,  you  understand.  I  expected 
him  but  he  has  evidently  been  detained." 

The  Doctor,  thinking  of  Dr.  Harry  and  the  nurse, 
chuckled,  and  Nathan  turned  a  look  of  solemn  in 
quiry  in  his  direction. 

"Ahem — ahem, — you  did  not  come  to  Corinth 
directly  from  your  home,  I  understand,  Brother 
Matthews  ?" 

The  Doctor  could  see  Dan's  face  by  the  light  from 
the  open  window.  He  fancied  it  wore  a  look  of 
amused  understanding. 

"No,"  answered  the  minister,  "I  spent  yesterday 
in  the  city." 

"Ahein — ahem,"  coughed  the  Elder.  "Found  an 
acquaintance  on  the  train  coming  up,  didn't  you? 
We  noticed  you  talking  to  a  young  woman  at  the  car 
window." 

Dan  paused  a  moment  before  answering,  and  the 
Doctor  could  feel  the  interest  of  the  company.  Then 

71 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  boy  said,  dryly,  "Yes,  I  may  say  though,  that  she 
is  something  more  than  an  acquaintance." 

Smothered  exclamations  from  the  women.  "Ah 
hah,"  from  the  Elder.  The  Doctor  grinned  to  him 
self  in  the  dark.  "The  young  scamp !" 

"Ahem!  She  had  a  pretty  face,  we  noticed;  are 
you — that  is,  have  you  known  her  long  ?" 

"Several  years,  sir;  the  lady  you  saw  is  my 
mother.  I  went  with  her  to  the  city  day  before 
yesterday,  where  she  wished  to  do  some  shopping,  and 
accompanied  her  on  her  way  home  as  far  as  Corinth." 

More  exclamations  from  the  women. 

"Why,  Doctor,  you  never  told  us  it  was  his 
mother,"  cried  Martha,  and  Nathaniel  turned  to 
ward  the  end  of  the  porch  with  a  look  of  righteous 
indignation. 

"You  never  asked  me,"  chuckled  the  Doctor. 

After  this  the  two  older  women  drifted  into  the 
house.  Charity  settled  herself  in  an  attitude  of  rapt 
attention,  and  the  program  was  continued. 

"Ahem.  You  may  not  be  aware  of  it  Brother 
Matthews,  but  I  know  a  great  deal  about  your  family, 


sir." 


"Indeed,"  exclaimed  Dan. 

"Yes  sir.  You  see  I  have  some  mining  interests  in 
that  district,  quite  profitable  interests  I  may  say. 
Judge  Strong  and  I  together  have  quite  extensive 
interests.  Two  or  three  years  ago  we  made  a  good 
many  trips  into  your  part  of  the  country,  where  we 
heard  a  great  deal  of  your  people.  Your  mother 
seems  to  be  a  remarkable  woman  of  considerable 
influence.  Too  bad  she  is  not  a  regular  member  of 


THE  GALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  church.  Our  preachers  often  tell  us,  and  I  be 
lieve  it  is  true,  that  people  who  do  so  much  good  out 
of  the  church  really  injure  the  cause  more  than  any 
thing  else." 

Dan  made  no  answer  to  this,  but  as  the  Doctor  saw 
his  face  in  the  light  it  wore  a  mingled  expression  of 
astonishment  and  doubt. 

The  Elder  proceeded,  "They  used  to  tell  us  some 
great  stories  about  your  father,  too.  Big  man,  isn't 
he?" 

"Yes  sir,  fairly  good  size." 

"Yes,  I  remember  some  of  his  fights  we  used  to 
hear  about;  and  there  was  another  member  of  the 
family,  they  mentioned  a  good  deal.  Dad — Dad — " 

"Howitt,"  said  Dan  softly. 

"That's  it,  Howitt.  A  kind  of  a  shepherd,  wasn't 
he  ?  Discovered  the  big  mine  on  your  father's  place. 
One  of  your  father's  fights  was  about  the  old  man. 
Ahem — ahem — I  judge  you  take  after  your  father. 
I  don't  know  just  what  to  think  about  your  whipping 
that  fellow  this  morning.  Someone  had  to  do  some 
thing  of  course,  but — ahem,  for  a  minister  it  was 
rather  unusual.  I  don't  know  how  the  people  will 
take  it." 

"I'm  afraid  that  I  forgot  that  I  was  a  minister," 
said  Dan  uneasily.  "I  hope,  sir,  you  do  not  think 
that  I  did  wrong." 

"Ahem — ahem,  I  can't  say  that  it  was  wrong  ex 
actly,  but  as  I  said,  we  don't  know  how  the  people 
will  take  it.  But  there's  one  thing  sure,"  and  the 
Elder's  shrill  cackle  rang  out,  "it  will  bring  a  big 
crowd  to  hear  you  preach.  Well,  well,  that's  off  the 

73 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

subject.  Ahem — Brother  Matthews,  why  haven't 
your  people  opened  that  big  mine  in  Dewey  Bald  ?" 

"I  expect  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  let  father 
or  mother  explain  that  to  you,  sir/'  answered  Dan,  as 
cool  and  calm  as  the  evening. 

"Yes,  yes  of  course,  but  it's  rather  strange,  rather 
unusual  you  know,  to  find  a  young  man  of  your 
make-up  and  opportunities  for  wealth,  entering  the 
ministry.  You  could  educate  a  great  many  preach 
ers,  sir,  if  you  would  develop  that  mine." 

"Father  and  mother  have  always  taught  us  chil 
dren  that  in  the  battle  of  life  one  cannot  hire  a 
substitute;  that  whatever  work  one  volunteers  to 
make  his  own  he  must  look  upon  as  his  ministry  to 
the  race.  I  believe  that  the  church  is  an  institution 
divinely  given  to  serve  the  world,  and  that,  more 
than  any  other,  it  helps  men  to  the  highest  possible 
life.  I  volunteered  for  the  work  I  have  undertaken, 
because  naturally  I  wish  my  life  to  count  for  the 
greatest  possible  good ;  and  because  I  feel  that  I  can 
serve  men  better  in  the  church  than  in  any  other 
way." 

"Whew!"  thought  the  Doctor,  "that  was  some 
thing  for  Nathan  to  chew  on."  The  lad's  face  when 
he  spoke  made  his  old  friend's  nerves  tingle.  His 
was  a  new  conception  of  the  ministry,  new  to  the 
Doctor  at  least.  Forgetting  his  cigar  he  awaited  the 
Elder's  reply  with  breathless  interest. 

"Ahem — ahem,  you  feel  then  that  you  have  no 
special  Divine  call  to  the  work  ?" 

"I  have  always  been  taught  at  home,  sir,  that  every 
man  is  divinely  called  to  his  work,  if  that  work  is 

74 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

for  the  good  of  all  men.  His  faithfulness  or  un 
faithfulness  to  the  call  is  revealed  in  the  motives  that 
prompt  him  to  choose  his  field."  The  boy  paused  a 
moment  and  then  added  slowly — and  no  one  who 
heard  him  could  doubt  his  deep  conviction — "Yes  sir, 
I  feel  that  I  am  divinely  called  to  preach  the  gospel." 

"Ahem — ahem,  I  trust,  Brother  Matthews,  that 
you  are  not  taken  up  with  these  new  fads  and  fancies 
that  are  turning  the  minds  of  the  people  from  the 
true  worship  of  God." 

"It  is  my  desire,  sir,  to  lead  people  to  the  true 
worship  of  God.  I  believe  that  nothing  will  accom 
plish  that  end  but  the  simple  old  Jerusalem  gospel." 

The  Doctor  lit  his  cigar  again.  They  seemed  to 
be  getting  upon  safer  ground. 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  that — "  said  the  Elder  heartily 
— "very  glad.  I  feared  from  the  way  you  spoke, 
you  might  be  going  astray.  There  is  a  great  work 
for  you  here  in  Corinth — a  great  work.  Our  old 
brother  who  preceded  you  was  a  good  man,  sound 
in  the  faith  in  every  way,  but  he  didn't  seem  to  take 
somehow.  The  fact  is  the  other  churches — ahem — 
are  getting  about  all  our  congregation." 

Then  for  an  hour  or  more,  Elder  Jordan,  for  the 
new  minister's  benefit,  discussed  in  detail  the  re 
ligious  history  of  Corinth,  with  the  past,  present  and 
future  of  Memorial  Church ;  while  Charity,  drinking 
in  every  word  of  the  oft-heard  discussion,  grew  ever 
more  entranced  with  the  possibilities  of  the  new 
pastor's  ministry,  and  the  Doctor  sat  alone  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  porch.  The  Elder  finished  with : 
"Well,  well,  Brother  Matthews,  you  are  young, 

75 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

strong,  unmarried,  and  with  your  reputation  as  a  col 
lege  man  and  an  athlete  you  ought  to  do  great  things 
for  Memorial  Church.  We  are  counting  on  you  to 
build  us  up  wonderfully.  And  let  me  say  too,  that 
we  are  one  of  the  oldest  and  best  known  congrega 
tions  in  our  brotherhood  here  in  the  state.  We  have 
had  some  great  preachers  here.  You  can  make  a 
reputation  that  will  put  you  to  the  top  of  your — ah, 
calling." 

Dan  was  just  saying,  "I  hope  I  will  please  you, 
sir,"  when  the  women  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
Martha  had  her  bonnet  on. 

"Come,  come  Nathan,"  said  Mrs.  Jordan,  "you 
mustn't  keep  poor  Brother  Matthews  up  another 
minute.  He  must  be  nearly  worn  out  with  his  long 
journey  and  all  the  excitement." 

The  Doctor  thought  again  of  the  girl  who  had 
made  the  same  journey  in  the  car  behind  Dan,  and 
who  had  also  shared  the  excitement.  He  wondered 
how  the  nurse  was  enjoying  her  evening  and  when 
she  would  get  to  bed.  "That's  so,"  exclaimed  the 
Doctor,  rising  to  his  feet.  "We're  all  a  lot  of  brutes 
to  treat  the  poor  boy  so." 

Dan  whirled  on  him  with  a  look  that  set  the  old 
man  to  laughing,  "That's  all  right,  sonny,"  he 
chuckled.  "Come  on,  I've  been  asleep  for  an  hour." 


76 


CHAPTEE  YII. 

FROM  DEBORAH'S  PORCH. 

"'With  nothin'  to  think  of  all  the  time  but  the  Blessed 
Jesus  an'  the  Holy  Mother;  an'  all  the  people  so  respectful, 
an'  lookin'  up  to  you.  Sure  'tis  a  grand  thing,  Doctor,  to  be 
a  priest.' " 

IATHAKEEL  JOKDAN'S  prediction  proved 

true 

In  the  two  days  between  Dan's  arrival 
and  his  first  Sunday  in  Corinth,  the  Ally  was  ac 
tively  engaged  in  making  known  the  identity  of  the 
big  stranger,  who  had  so  skillfully  punished  the  man 
from  Windy  Cove.  Also  the  name  and  profession 
of  the  young  woman  who  had  gone  to  Denny's  assist 
ance  were  fully  revealed. 

The  new  minister  of  the  Memorial  Church  was 
the  sensation  of  the  hour.  The  building  could 
scarcely  hold  the  crowd,  while  the  rival  churches 
were  deserted,  save  only  by  the  few  faithful  "pillars" 
who  were  held  in  their  places  by  the  deep  conviction 
that  heaven  itself  would  fall  should  they  fail  to  sup 
port  their  own  particular  faith.  With  the  people 
who  had  attended  the  fair,  the  Ally  journeyed  far 
into  the  country,  and  the  roads  being  good  with 
promise  of  a  moon  to  drive  home  by,  the  country 
folk  for  miles  around  came  to  worship  God,  and,  in 
cidentally,  to  see  the  preacher  who  had  fought  and 

77 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

vanquished  the  celebrated  Jud.  Many  were  there 
that  day  who  had  not  been  inside  a  church  before 
for  years.  The  Ally  went  also,  but  then  the  Ally, 
they  say,  is  a  regular  attendant  at  all  the  services  of 
every  church. 

Judge  Strong,  with  an  expression  of  pious  satis 
faction  on  his  hard  face,  occupied  his  own  particular 
corner.  From  another  corner  Elder  Jordan  watched 
for  signs  of  false  doctrine.  Charity,  except  when 
busy  at  the  organ,  never  took  her  adoring  eyes  from 
the  preacher's  face.  At  the  last  moment  before  the 
sermon,  Dr.  Harry  slipped  into  the  seat  beside  the 
Doctor.  And  many  other  earnest  souls  there  were 
who  depended  upon  the  church  as  the  only  source 
of  their  life's  inspiration  and  strength. 

Facing  this  crowd  that  even  in  the  small  town  of 
Corinth  represented  every  class  and  kind,  Dan  felt 
it  all ;  the  vulgar  curiosity,  the  craving  for  sensation, 
the  admiration,  the  suspicion,  the  true  welcome,  the 
antagonism,  the  spiritual  dependence.  And  the 
young  man  from  the  mountains  and  the  schools,  who 
had  entered  the  ministry  from  the  truest  motives, 
with  the  highest  ideals,  shrank  back  and  was  afraid. 

Dan  was,  literally,  to  this  church  and  people  a 
messenger  from  another  world.  It  was  not  strange 
that  many  of  the  people  thought,  "How  out  of  place 
this  big  fellow  looks  in  the  pulpit."  Many  of  them 
felt  dimly,  too,  that  which  the  Doctor  had  always 
felt,  that  this  man  was  somehow  a  revelation  of  some 
thing  that  might  have  been,  that  ought  to  be.  But 
no  one  tried  to  search  out  the  reason  why. 

The  theme  of  the  new  minister's  sermon  was,  "The 

rs 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAST  MATTHEWS 

Faith  of  the  Fathers,"  and  it  must  have  been  a  good 
one,  because  Martha  said  the  next  day,  that  it  was 
the  finest  thing  she  had  ever  heard;  and  she  had  it 
figured  out  somehow  that  the  members  of  neighbor 
ing  churches,  who  were  there,  got  some  straight  gos 
pel  for  once  in  their  lives.  Elder  Jordan  assured  the 
Doctor  in  a  confidential  whisper,  that  it  was  a  splen 
did  effort.  The  Doctor  knew  that  Dan  was  splendid, 
and  he  could  see  that  the  boy  had  fairly  hypnotized 
the  crowd,  but  he  could  not  understand  why  it  should 
have  been  much  of  an  effort.  He  confided  to  Martha 
that  "so  far  as  he  could  see,  the  sermon  might  have 
been  taken  from  the  barrel  of  any  one  of  the  preach 
ers  that  had  served  the  Memorial  Church  since  its 
establishment.77  But  the  sermon  was  new  and  fresh 
to  Dan,  and  so  gained  something  of  interest  and 
strength  from  the  earnestness  and  personality  of  the 
speaker.  "The  boy  had  only  to  hold  that  gait,7' 
reflected  the  Doctor,  "and  he  would,  as  Xathan  had 
said,  land  at  the  very  top  of  his  profession.77 

In  the  evening,  the  Doctor  slipped  away  from 
church  as  soon  as  the  services  were  over,  leaving  Dan 
with  those  who  always  stay  until  the  janitor  begins 
turning  out  the  lights.  Martha  would  walk  home 
with  fellow  workers  in  the  Ladies7  Aid,  who  lived  a 
few  doors  beyond,  and  the  Doctor  wished  to  be  alone. 

Crossing  the  street  to  avoid  the  crowd,  he  walked 
slowly  along  under  the  big  trees,  trying  to  accustom 
himself  to  the  thought  of  his  boy  dressed  in  the 
conventional  minister's  garb,  delivering  time  worn 
conventionalities  in  a  manner  as  conventional.  It 
was  to  this  strange  thinking  old  man,  almost  as  if  he 

19 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

had  seen  Dan  behind  the  grated  doors  of  a  prison 
cell. 

Very  slowly  he  went  along,  unmindful  of  aught 
but  the  thoughts  that  troubled  him,  until,  coming 
to  the  Widow  MulhalPs  little  cottage,  where  Deborah 
and  Denny  were  sitting  on  the  porch,  he  paused. 
Across  the  street  in  front  of  his  own  home,  Martha 
and  her  friends  were  holding  an  animated  conver 
sation. 

"Come  in,  come  in,  Doctor,"  called  Deborah's 
cheery  voice,  "it's  a  fine  evenin'  it  is  and  only  be- 
ginnin'.  I  was  just  tellin'  Denny  that  'tis  a  shame 
folks  have  to  waste  such  nights  in  sleep.  Come  right 
in,  I'll  fetch  another  chair — take  the  big  rocker  there, 
Doctor,  that's  right.  And  how  are  you?  Denny? 
Oh  the  bye  is  all  right  again  just  as  you  said ;  sure 
the  minister  had  him  out  in  the  garden  that  same 
afternoon.  ?Twas  the  blessin'  of  God,  though,  that 
his  Reverence  was  there  to  keep  that  devil  from 
batin'  the  poor  lad  to  death.  I  hope  you'll  not  be 
forgettin'  the  way  to  our  gate  entirely  now,  Doctor, 
that  you'll  be  crossin'  the  street  so  often  to  the 
house  beyond  the  garden  there." 

In  the  Widow's  voice  there  was  a  hint  of  her 
Irish  ancestry,  as,  in  her  kind  blue  eyes,  buxom 
figure  and  cordial  manner,  there  was  more  than  a 
hint  of  her  warm-hearted,  whole-souled  nature. 

"How  do  you  like  your  new  neighbor,  Deborah?" 
asked  the  Doctor. 

"Ah,  Doctor,  it's  a  fine  big  man  he  is,  a  danged 
fine  man  inside  an'  out.  Denny  and  me  are  al- 


80 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

mighty  proud,  bavin'  him  so  close.  He's  that  socia 
ble,  too,  not  at  all  like  a  priest.  It's  every  blessed 
day  since  he's  been  here  he's  comin'  over  to  Denny 
in  the  garden,  and  helpin'  him  with  the  things, 
a-talkin'  away  all  the  time.  '  'Tis  the  very  exercise 
I  need/  says  he.  'And  it's  a  real  kindness  for  ye 
to  let  me  work  a  bit  now  and  then,'  says  he.  But 
sure  we  kin  see,  'tis  the  big  heart  of  him,  wishful  to 
help  the  bye.  But  it's  queer  notioned  he  is  fer  a 
preacher." 

"Didn't  I  see  you  and  Denny  at  church  this  even 
ing?"  asked  the  Doctor. 

"You  did  that,  sir.  You  see  not  bavin'  no  church 
of  our  own  within  reach  of  our  legs,  an'  bein'  real 
wishful  to  hear  a  bit  of  a  prayer  and  a  sermon  like, 
Denny  an'  me  slips  into  the  protestant  meetings  now 
and  then.  After  all  there's  no  real  harm  in  it  now, 
do  you  think,  Doctor  ?" 

"Harm  to  you  and  Denny,  or  the  church?"  the 
Doctor  asked. 

"Aw,  go  on  now,  Doctor  you  do  be  always  bavin' 
your  joke,"  she  laughed.  "Harm  to  neither  or  both 
or  all,  I  mane,  for,  of  course — well,  let  it  go.  I 
guess  that  while  Denny  and  me  do  be  sayin'  our 
prayers  in  our  little  cabin  on  this  side  of  the  street, 
and  you  are  a-sayin'  yours  in  your  fine  house  across 
the  way,  'tis  the  same  blessed  Father  of  us  all  gets 
them  both.  I  misdoubt  if  God  had  much  to  do  wid 
layin'  out  the  streets  of  Corinth  anyhow.  I've  heard 
how  'twas  the  old  Judge  Strong  did  that." 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  Mr.  Matthews'  ser 
mon?" 

81 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"It's  ashamed  I  am  to  say  it,  Doctor,  but  I  niver 
heard  him." 

"Never  heard  him?  But  I  thought  you  were 
there." 

"And  we  was,  sir,  so  we  was.  And  Denny  here 
can  tell  you  the  whole  thing,  but  for  myself  I  niver 
heard  a  blessed  word,  after  the  singin'  and  the 
preacher  stood  up." 

"Why,  what  was  the  matter  ?" 

"The  preacher  himself." 

"The  preacher?" 

"Yes  sir.  'Twas  this  way,  Doctor,  upon  my  soul 
I  couldn't  hear  what  he  was  a-sayin'  for  lookin'  at 
the  man  himself.  With  him  a-standin'  up  there  so 
big  an'  strong  an' — an'  clean  like  through  an'  through 
an'  the  look  on  his  face  I  It  set  me  to  thinkin'  of  all 
that  I  used  to  dream  fer — fer  my  Denny  here.  Ye 
mind  what  a  fine  lookin'  man  poor  Jack  was,  sir, 
tho'  I  do  say  it,  and  how  Denny  here,  from  a  baby, 
was  the  very  image  of  him.  I  always  knowed  he 
was  a-goin'  to  grow  up  another  Jack  for  strength  an' 
looks.  And  you  know  yourself  how  our  hearts  was 
set  on  havin'  him  a  priest,  him  havin'  such  a  turn 
that  way,  bein'  crazy  on  books  and  studyin51  an'  the 
likes — an'  now — now  here  we  are,  sir.  My  man 
gone,  an'  my  boy  just  able  to  drag  his  poor  broken 
body  around,  an'  good  fer  nothin'  but  to  dig  in  the 
dirt.  No  sir,  I  couldn't  hear  the  sermon  fer  lookin' 
at  the  preacher  an'  thinkin'." 

Denny  moved  his  twisted,  misshapen  body  un 
easily,  "Oh,  come  now,  mother,"  he  said,  "let's  don't 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

be  spoilin'  the  fine  night  fer  the  Doctor  with  our 
troubles." 

"Indade,  that  we  will  not,"  said  Deborah  cheer 
fully.  "Don't  you  think  Denny's  garden's  been 
doin'  fine  this  summer,  Doctor  ?" 

"Fine,"  said  the  Doctor  heartily.  "But  then  it's 
always  fine.  There's  lots  of  us  would  like  to  know 
how  he  makes  it  do  so  well." 

Denny  gave  a  pleased  laugh. 

"Aw  now  Doctor  you're  flatterin'  me.  They  have 
been  doin'  pretty  well  though — pretty  well  fer  me." 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Doctor,"  said  Deborah,  "the 
bye  naturally  loves  them  things  into  growin'.  If 
people  would  be  takin'  as  good  care  of  their  children 
as  Denny  does  for  his  cabbage  and  truck  it  would  be 
a  blessin'  to  the  world." 

"It  is  funny,  Doctor,"  put  in  Denny,  "but  do  you 
know  those  things  out  there  seem  just  like  people 
to  me.  I  tell  mother  it  ain't  so  bad  after  all,  not 
bein'  a  priest.  The  minister  was  a-sayin'  yesterday, 
that  the  people  needed  more  than  their  souls  looked 
after.  If  I  can't  be  tellin'  people  how  to  live,  I  can 
be  growin'  good  things  to  keep  them  alive,  and  maybe 
that's  not  so  bad  as  it  might  be." 

"I  don't  know  what  we'd  be  doin'  at  all,  if  it 
wasn't  fer  that  same  garden,"  added  Deborah,  "with 
clothes,  and  wood  and  groceries  to  buy,  to  say  nothin' 
of  the  interest  that's  always  eoinin'  due.  We — " 

"Whist,"  said  Denny  in  a  low  tone  as  a  light 
flashed  up  in  the  corner  window  of  the  house  on  the 
other  side  of  the  garden.  "There's  the  minister 
come  home." 

83 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Reverently  they  watched  the  light  and  the  moving 
shadow  in  the  room.  The  moon,  through  the 
branches  of  the  trees  along  the  street,  threw  waving 
patches  of  soft  light  over  the  dark  green  of  the  little 
lawn.  Martha's  friends  had  moved  on,  Martha 
herself  had  retired.  The  street  was  seemingly  de 
serted  and  very  still. 

Leaning  forward  in  her  chair  Deborah  spoke  in  a 
whisper.  "We  can  always  tell  when  he's  in  of  nights, 
and  when  he  goes  to  bed.  Ye  see  it's  almost  like  we 
was  livin'  in  the  same  house  with  him.  An'  a  great 
comfort  it  is  to  us  too,  wid  him  such  a  good  man, 
our  havin'  him  so  near.  Poor  bye  I'll  warrant  he's 
tired  tonight.  But  oh,  it  must  be  a  grand  thing, 
Doctor,  to  be  doin'  such  holy  work,  an'  a  livin'  with 
God  Almighty  like,  with  nothin'  to  think  of  all  the 
time  but  the  Blessed  Jesus  and  the  Holy  Mother; 
an'  all  the  people  so  respectful,  an'  lookin'  up  to  you. 
Sure  'tis  a  grand  thing,  Doctor,  to  be  a  priest,  savin' 
your  presence  sir,  for  I  know  how  you've  little  truck 
wid  churches,  tho'  the  lady  your  wife  does  enough 
fer  two." 

The  Doctor  rose  to  go  for  he  saw  that  the  hour  was 
late.  As  he  stood  on  the  steps  ready  to  depart  the 
steady  flow  of  Deborah's  talk  continued,  when  Denny 
interrupted  again,  pointing  toward  a  woman  who 
was  crossing  to  the  other  side  of  the  street.  She 
walked  slowly,  and,  reaching  the  sidewalk  in  front 
of  the  Doctor's  house,  hesitated,  in  a  troubled,  unde 
cided  way.  Approaching  the  gate,  she  paused,  then 
drew  back  and  moved  on  slowly  up  the  street.  Her 


84 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA3T  MATTHEWS 

movements  and  manner  gave  the  impression  that 
she  was  in  trouble,  perhaps  in  pain. 

" There's  something  wrong  there,"  said  the  Doc 
tor.  "Who  is  it  ?  Can  you  see  who  it  is,  Denny  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  answered,  and  Deborah  broke  in, 
"it's  that  poor  girl  of — of  Jim  Conner's,  sir." 

The  Doctor,  at  once  nervous  and  agitated,  was  not 
a  little  worried  and  could  make  no  reply,  knowing 
that  it  was  Jim  Conner  who  had  killed  Deborah's 
husband. 

"Poor  thing,"  murmured  Deborah.  "For  the  love 
of  God,  look  at  that  now,  Doctor !" 

The  girl  had  reached  the  corner,  and  had  fallen 
or  thrown  herself  in  a  crouching  heap  against  the 
monument. 

The  widow  was  starting  for  the  street,  but  Denny 
caught  her  arm:  "No — no  mother,  you  mustn't  do 
that,  you  know  how  she's  scared  to  death  of  you ;  let 
the  Doctor  go." 

The  physician  was  already  on  his  way  as  fast  as 
his  old  legs  would  take  him. 


85 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 

THE  WORK  OF  THE  ALLY. 

"In  the  little  room  that  looked  out  upon  the  Monument  and 
the  garden,  Dan — all  unknowing — slept.  And  over  all  brooded 
the  spirit  that  lives  in  Corinth — the  Ally — that  dread,  mys 
terious  thing  that  never  sleeps." 

|EACE  CONNER  is  a  type  common  to  every 
village,  town  and  city  in  the  land,  the  sad 
dest  of  all  sad  creatures — a  good  girl  with  a 
bad  reputation. 

Her  reputation  Grace  owed  first  to  her  father's 
misdeeds,  for  which  the  girl  could  in  no  way  be  to 
blame,  and  second,  to  the  all-powerful  Ally,  without 
whom  the  making  of  any  reputation,  good  or  bad,  is 
impossible. 

The  Doctor  knew  the  girl  well.  When  she  was  a 
little  tot  and  a  member  of  Martha's  Sunday  school 
class,  she  was  at  the  house  frequently.  Later  as  a 
member  of  the  church  she  herself  was  a  teacher  and 
an  active  worker.  Then  came  the  father's  crime  and 
conviction,  followed  soon  by  the  mother's  death,  and 
the  girl  was  left  to  shift  for  herself.  She  had  kept  her 
self  alive  by  working  here  and  there,  in  the  canning 
factory  and  restaurants,  and  wherever  she  could. 
No  one  would  give  her  a  place  in  a  home. 

The  young  people  in  the  church,  imitating  their 
elders,  shunned  her,  and  it  was  not  considered  good 

86 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

policy  to  permit  her  to  continue  teaching  in  the 
Sunday  school.  No  mother  wanted  her  child  to 
associate  with  a  criminal's  daughter;  naturally  she 
drifted  away  from  the  regular  services,  and  soon  it 
was  publicly  announced  that  her  name  had  been 
dropped  from  the  roll  of  membership.  After  that 
she  never  came. 

It  was  not  long  until  the  girl  had  such  a  name 
that  no  self  respecting  man  or  woman  dared  be  caught 
recognizing  her  on  the  street. 

The  people  always  spoke  of  her  as  "that  Grace 
Conner." 

The  girl,  hurt  so  often,  grew  to  fear  everyone. 
She  strove  to  avoid  meeting  people  on  the  street,  or 
meeting  them,  passed  with  downcast  eyes,  not  daring 
to  greet  them.  Barely  able  to  earn  bread  to  keep 
life  within  her  poor  body,  her  clothing  grew  shabby, 
her  form  thin  and  worn;  and  these  very  evidences 
of  her  goodness  of  character  worked  to  accomplish 
her  ruin.  But  she  was  a  good  girl  through  it  all, 
a  good  girl  with  a  bad  reputation. 

She  was  cowering  at  the  foot  of  the  monument, 
her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  when  the  Doctor 
touched  her  on  the  shoulder.  She  started  and  turned 
up  to  him  the  saddest  face  the  old  physician  had 
ever  seen. 

"What's  the  matter,  my  girl  ?"  he  said  as  kindly 
as  he  could. 

She  shook  her  head  and  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands  again. 

"Please  go  away  and  let  me  alone." 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  Doctor  laying  his  hand 

87 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

on  her  shoulder  again.  "This  won't  do;  you  must 
tell  me  what's  wrong.  You  can't  stay  out  here  on 
the  street  at  this  time  of  the  night." 

At  his  tone  she  raised  her  head  again.  "This  time 
of  the  night !  What  difference  does  it  make  to  any 
one  whether  I  am  on  the  street  or  not  ?" 

"It  makes  a  big  difference  to  you,  my  girl,"  the 
Doctor  answered.  "You  should  be  home  and  in 
bed." 

God !  What  a  laugh  she  gave ! 

"Home !   In  bed !"     She  laughed  again. 

"Stop  that !"  said  the  physician  sharply,  for  he  saw 
that  just  a  touch  more,  and  she  would  be  over  the 
line.  "Stand  up  here  and  tell  me  what's  the  matter ; 
are  you  sick  ?" 

She  rose  to  her  feet  with  his  help. 

"No  sir." 

"Well,  what  have  you  been  doing  ?" 

"Nothing,  Doctor.  I — I  was  just  walking 
around." 

"Why  don't  you  go  back  to  the  Hotel  ?  You  are 
working  there,  are  you  not?" 

At  this  she  wrung  her  hands  and  looked  about  in  a 
dazed  way,  but  answered  nothing. 

"See  here,  Grace,"  said  the  physician,  "you  know 
me,  surely — old  Doctor  Oldham,  can't  you  tell  me 
what  it  is  that's  wrong  ?" 

She  made  no  answer. 

"Come,  let  me  take  you  to  the  Hotel,"  he  urged; 
"it's  only  a  step." 

"No — no,"  she  moaned,  "I  can't  go  there.  I  don't 
live  there  any  more." 

88 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Well  where  do  you  live  now  ?"  he  asked. 

"Over  in  Old  Town." 

"But  why  did  you  leave  your  place  at  the  Hotel  ?" 

"A — a  man  there  said  something  that  I  didn't  like, 
and  then  the  proprietor  told  me  that  I  must  go,  be 
cause  some  of  the  people  were  talking  about  me,  and 
I  was  giving  the  Hotel  a  bad  name.  Oh,  Doctor,  I 
ain't  a  bad  girl,  I  ain't  never  been,  but  folks  are 
driving  me  to  it.  That  or — or — "  she  hesitated. 

What  could  he  say? 

"It's  the  same  everywhere  I  try  to  work,"  she  con 
tinued  in  a  hopeless  tone.  "At  the  canning  factory 
the  other  girls  said  their  folks  wouldn't  let  them  work 
there  if  I  didn't  go.  I  haven't  been  able  to  earn  a 
cent  since  I  left  the  Hotel.  I  don't  know  what  to  do, 
— oh,  I  don't  know  what  to  do!"  She  broke  down 
crying. 

"Look  here,  why  didn't  you  come  to  me?"  the 
Doctor  asked  roughly.  "You  knew  you  could  come 
to  me.  Didn't  I  tell  you  to  ?" 

"I — I  was  afraid.  I'm  afraid  of  everybody."  She 
shivered  and  looked  over  her  shoulder. 

The  Doctor  saw  that  this  thing  had  gone  far 
enough.  "Come  with  me,"  he  said.  "You  must 
have  something  to  eat." 

He  started  to  lead  her  across  the  street  toward 
Mrs.  Mulhall  whom  he  could  see  at  the  gate  watching 
them.  But  the  girl  hung  back. 

"No,  no,"  she  panted  in  her  excitement.  "Not 
there,  I  dare  not  go  there."  The  Doctor  hesitated. 

"Well,  come  to  my  house  then,"  he  said.  She 
went  as  far  as  the  gate  then  she  stopped  again. 

89 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"I  can't,  Doctor.  Mrs.  Oldham,  I  can't—"  The 
girl  was  right.  The  Doctor  was  never  so  ashamed 
in  all  his  life.  After  a  little,  he  said  with  decision, 
"Look  here,  Grace,  you  sit  down  on  the  porch  for  a 
few  minutes.  Martha  is  in  bed  and  fast  asleep  long 
ago."  He  stole  away  as  quietly  as  possible,  and  in 
a  little  while  returned  with  a  basket  full  of  such 
provisions  as  he  could  find  in  the  pantry.  He  was 
chuckling  to  himself  as  he  thought  of  Martha  when 
she  discovered  the  theft  in  the  morning,  and  cursing 
half  aloud  the  thing  that  made  it  necessary  for  him 
to  steal  from  his  own  pantry  for  the  girl  whom  he 
would  have  taken  into  his  home  so  gladly,  if 

He  made  her  eat  some  of  the  cold  chicken  and 
bread  and  drink  a  glass  of  milk.  And  when  she  was 
feeling  better,  walked  with  her  down  the  street  a 
little  way,  to  be  sure  that  she  was  all  right. 

"I  can't  thank  you  enough,  Doctor,"  she  said,  "you 
have  saved  me  from — " 

"Don't  try,"  he  broke  in.  He  did  not  want  her 
to  get  on  that  line  again.  "Go  on  home  like  a  good 
girl  now,  and  mind  you  look  carefully  in  the  bottom 
of  that  basket."  He  had  put  a  little  bill  there,  the 
only  money  he  had  in  the  house.  "This  will  help 
until  times  are  better  for  you,  and  mind  now,  if  you 
run  against  it  again,  come  to  me  or  go  to  Dr.  Harry 
at  the  office,  and  tell  him  that  you  want  me." 

He  watched  her  down  the  street  and  then  went 
home,  stopping  for  a  word  of  explanation  to  Deborah 
and  Denny,  who  were  waiting  at  the  gate. 

The  light  was  still  burning  in  Dan's  window  when 
the  Doctor  again  entered  his  own  yard.  He  thought 

90 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

once  that  he  would  run  in  on  the  minister  for  a 
minute,  and  then  remembered  that  "the  boy  would 
be  tired  after  his  great  effort  defending  the  faith  of 
Memorial  Church."  It  was  long  past  the  old  man's 
bed  time.  He  told  himself  that  he  was  an  old  fool 
to  be  prowling  about  so  late  at  night,  and  that  he 
would  hear  from  Martha  all  right  tomorrow.  Then, 
as  he  climbed  into  bed,  he  chuckled  again,  thinking 
of  the  empty  kitchen  pantry  and  that  missing  basket. 

The  light  in  Dan's  room  went  out.  Some  belated 
person  passed,  going  home  for  the  night;  a  little 
later,  another.  Then  a  man  and  woman,  walking 
closely,  talking  in  low  tones,  strolled  slowly  by  in  the 
shadow  of  the  big  trees.  The  quick  step  of  a  horse 
and  the  sound  of  buggy-wheels  came  swiftly  nearer 
and  nearer,  passed  and  died  away  in  the  stillness. 
It  was  Dr.  Harry  answering  a  call.  In  Judge 
Strong's  big,  brown  house,  a  nurse  in  her  uniform  of 
blue  and  white,  by  the  dim  light  of  a  night-lamp, 
leaned  over  her  patient  with  a  glass  of  water.  In 
Old  Town  a  young  woman  in  shabby  dress,  with  a 
basket  on  her  arm,  hurried — trembling  and  fright 
ened — across  the  lonely,  grass-grown  square.  Under 
the  quiet  stars  in  the  soft  moonlight,  the  cast-iron 
monument  stood — grim  and  cold  and  sinister.  In 
the  peace  and  quiet  of  the  night,  Denny's  garden 
wrought  its  mystery.  In  the  little  room  that  looked 
out  upon  the  monument  and  the  garden,  Dan — all 
unknowing — slept. 

And  over  all  brooded  the  spirit  that  lives  in  Cor 
inth — the  Ally — that  dread,  mysterious  thing  that 
never  sleeps. 

91 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  EDGE  OF  THE  BATTLEFIELD. 

"But  it  was  as  if  his  superior  officers  had  ordered  him  to 
mark  time,  while  his  whole  soul  was  eager  for  the  command 
to  charge." 

was  trying  to  prepare  his  evening  sermon 
for  the  third  Sunday  of  what  the  old  Doctor 
called  his  Corinthian  ministry.  The  after 
noon  was  half  gone,  when  he  arose  from  his  study 
table.  All  day  he  had  been  at  it,  and  all  day  the 
devils  of  dissatisfaction  had  rioted  in  his  soul — or 
wherever  it  is  that  such  devils  are  supposed  to  riot. 

The  three  weeks  had  not  been  idle  weeks  for  Dan. 
He  had  made  many  pastoral  calls  at  the  homes  of 
his  congregation;  he  had  attended  numberless  com 
mittee  meetings.  Already  he  was  beginning  to  feel 
the  tug  of  his  people's  need — the  world  old  need 
of  sympathy  and  inspiration,  of  courage  and  cheer; 
the  need  of  the  soldier  for  the  battle-cry  of  his  com 
rades,  the  need  of  the  striving  runner  for  the  lusty 
shout  of  his  friends,  the  need  of  the  toiling  servant 
for  the  "well-done"  of  his  master. 

Keenly  sensitive  to  this  great  unvoiced  cry  of  life, 
the  young  man  answered  in  his  heart,  "Here  am  I, 
use  me."  Standing  before  his  people  he  felt  as  one 
who,  on  the  edge  of  a  battlefield  longs,  with  all  his 
heart,  to  throw  himself  into  the  fight.  But  it  was 

92 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAtf  MATTHEWS 

as  if  his  superior  officers  had  ordered  him  to  mark 
time,  while  his  whole  soul  was  eager  for  the  command 
to  charge. 

Why  do  people  go  to  church?  What  do  men  ask 
of  their  religion?  What  have  they  the  right  to  ex 
pect  from  those  who  assume  to  lead  them  in  their 
worship  ?  Already  these  questions  were  being 
shouted  at  him  from  the  innermost  depths  of  his 
consciousness.  He  felt  the  answer  that  his  Master 
would  give.  But  always  between  him  and  those  to 
whom  he  would  speak  there  came  the  thought  of  his 
employers.  And  he  found  himself,  while  speaking 
to  the  people,  nervously  watching  the  faces  of  the 
men  by  whose  permission  he  spoke.  So  it  came  that 
he  was  not  satisfied  with  his  work  that  afternoon,  and 
he  tossed  aside  his  sermon  to  leave  his  study  for  the 
fresh  air  and  sunshine  of  the  open  fields.  From  his 
roses  the  Doctor  hailed  him  as  he  went  down  the 
street,  but  the  boy  only  answered  with  a  greeting 
and  a  wave  of  his  hand.  Dan  did  not  need  the  Doc 
tor  that  day.  Straight  out  into  the  country  he  went 
walking  fast,  down  one  hill — up  another,  across  a 
creek,  over  fences,  through  a  pasture  into  the  woods. 
An  hour  of  this  at  a  good  hard  pace,  and  he  felt 
better.  The  old  familiar  voices  of  hill  and  field  and 
forest  and  stream  soothed  and  calmed  him.  The 
physical  exercise  satisfied  to  some  extent  his  instinct 
and  passion  for  action. 

Coming  back  through  Old  Town,  and  leisurely 
climbing  the  hill  on  the  road  that  leads  past  the  old 
Academy,  he  paused  frequently  to  look  back  over  the 
ever  widening  view,  and  to  drink  deep  of  the  pure, 

93 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

sun-filled  air.  At  the  top  of  the  hill,  reluctant  to  go 
back  to  the  town  that  lay  beyond,  he  stood  con 
templating  the  ancient  school  building  that  held  so 
bravely  its  commanding  position,  and  looked  so  piti 
ful  in  its  shabby  old  age.  Then  passing  through  a 
gap  in  the  tumble-down  fence,  and  crossing  the 
weed-filled  yard,  he  entered  the  building. 

For  a  while  he  wandered  curiously  about  the  time- 
worn  rooms,  reading  the  names  scratched  on  the  plas 
ter  walls,  cut  in  the  desks  and  seats,  on  the  window 
casing,  and  on  the  big  square  posts  that,  in  the  lower 
rooms,  supported  the  ceiling.  He  laughed  to  himself, 
as  he  noticed  how  the  sides  of  these  posts  facing 
away  from  the  raised  platform  at  the  end  of  the 
room  were  most  elaborately  carved.  It  suggested 
so  vividly  the  life  that  had  once  stirred  within  the 
old  walls. 

Several  of  the  names  were  already  familiar  to  him. 
He  tried  to  imagine  the  venerable  heads  of  families 
he  knew,  as  they  were  in  the  days  when  they  sat  upon 
these  worn  benches.  Did  Judge  Strong  or  Elder 
Jordan,  perhaps,  throw  one  of  those  spit-balls  that 
stuck  so  hard  and  fast  to  the  ceiling  ?  And  did  some 
of  the  grandmothers  he  had  met  giggle  and  hide  their 
faces  at  Nathaniel's  cunning  evasion  of  the  teacher's 
quick  effort  to  locate  the  successful  marksman  ?  Had 
those  staid  pillars  of  the  church  ever  been  swayed 
and  bent  by  passions  of  young  manhood  and  woman 
hood?  Had  their  minds  ever  been  stirred  by  the 
questions  and  doubts  of  youth?  Had  their  hearts 
ever  throbbed  with  eager  longing  to  know — to  feel 
life  in  its  fullness? 

94 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA3T  MATTHEWS 

Seating  himself  at  one  of  the  battered  desks  he 
tried  to  bring  back  the  days  that  were  gone,  and  to 
see  about  him  the  faces  of  those  who  once  had  filled 
the  room  with  the  strength  and  gladness  of  their 
youth.  He  felt  strangely  old  in  thus  trying  to  feel 
a  boy  among  those  boys  and  girls  of  the  days  long 
gone. 

Who  among  the  boys  would  be  his  own  particular 
chum  ?  Elder  Jordan  ?  He  smiled.  And  who, 
(the  blood  mounted  to  his  cheek  at  the  thought)  who 
among  the  girls  would  be —  Out  of  the  mists  of  his 
revery  came  a  face — a  face  that  was  strangely  often 
in  his  mind  since  that  day  when  he  arrived  in  Cor 
inth.  Several  times  he  had  caught  passing  glimpses 
of  her;  once  he  had  met  her  on  the  street  and  ven 
tured  to  bow.  And  Dr.  Harry,  with  whom  he  had 
already  begun  an  enduring  friendship,  had  told  him 
much  to  add  to  his  interest  in  her.  But  to  dream 
about  the  stranger  in  this  way — 

"What  nonsense !"  he  exclaimed  aloud,  and  rising, 
strode  to  the  window  to  clear  his  mind  of  those  too 
strong  fancies  by  a  sight  of  the  world  in  which  he 
lived  and  to  which  he  belonged. 

The  next  moment  he  drew  back  with  a  start — a 
young  woman  in  the  uniform  of  a  trained  nurse 
was  entering  the  yard. 


95 


CHAPTEE  X. 

A  MATTER  OF  OPINION. 

"'Who  spoke  of  condemnation?  Is  that  just  the  question? 
Are  you  not  unfair  ?' " 

|ISS  FAEWELL  had  heard  much  of  the  new 
pastor  of  the  Memorial  Church.  Dr.  Harry 
frequently  urged  her  to  attend  services; 
Deborah,  when  Hope  had  seen  her  was  eloquent  in 
his  praise.  Mrs.  Strong  and  the  ladies  who  called 
at  the  house  spoke  of  him  often.  But  for  the  first 
two  weeks  of  her  stay  at  Judge  Strong's  the  nurse 
had  been  confined  so  closely  to  the  care  of  her  patient 
that  she  had  heard  nothing  to  identify  the  preacher 
with  the  big  stranger  whom  she  had  met  at  the  depot 
the  day  of  her  arrival. 

By  the  time  Miss  Farwell  began  hearing  of  the 
new  preacher  the  interest  occasioned  by  his  de 
fense  of  Denny  had  already  died  down,  and  it 
chanced  that  no  one  mentioned  it  in  her  pres 
ence  when  speaking  of  him,  while  each  time  he  had 
called  at  the  Strong  home  the  nurse  had  been  absent 
or  busy.  Thus  it  happened  that  so  far  as  she  knew, 
Miss  Farwell  had  never  met  the  minister  about  whom 
she  had  heard  so  much.  But  she  had  several  times 
seen  the  big  fellow,  who  had  apologized  at  such  length 
lor  running  into  her  at  the  depot,  and  who  had  gone 
so  quickly  to  the  assistance  of  Denny.  It  was  nat- 

96 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ural,  under  such  conditions,  that  she  should  remem 
ber  him.  It  was  natural,  too,  that  she  never  dreamed 
of  connecting  the  young  hero  of  the  street  fight  with 
the  Reverend  Matthews  of  the  Memorial  Church. 

Her  patient  had  so  far  improved  that  the  nurse 
was  now  able  to  leave  her  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the 
afternoon,  and  the  young  woman  had  gone  for  a 
walk  just  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Com 
ing  to  the  top  of  the  hill  she  had  turned  aside  from 
the  dusty  highway,  thinking  to  enjoy  the  view  from 
the  shade  of  a  great  oak  that  grew  on  a  grassy  knoll 
in  the  center  of  the  school  grounds. 

Dan  watched  her  as  she  made  her  way  slowly 
across  the  yard,  his  eyes  bright  with  admiration  for 
her  womanly  grace  as  she  stopped,  here  and  there, 
to  pick  a  wild  flower  from  the  tangle  of  grass  and 
weeds.  Reaching  the  tree  she  seated  herself  and, 
laying  her  parasol  on  the  grass  by  her  side,  began 
arranging  the  blossoms  she  had  gathered — pausing, 
now  and  then,  to  look  over  the  rolling  country  of 
field  and  woods  that,  dotted  by  farm  houses  with 
their  buildings  and  stacks,  stretched  away  into  the 
blue  distance. 

The  young  fellow  at  the  window  gazed  at  her  with 
almost  superstitious  awe.  That  her  face  had  come 
before  him  so  vividly,  as  he  sat  dreaming  in  the  old 
school-room,  at  the  very  moment  when  she  was  turn 
ing  into  the  yard,  moved  him  greatly.  His  blood 
tingled  at  the  odd  premonition  that  this  woman  was 
somehow  to  play  a  great  part  in  his  life.  Nothing 
seemed  more  natural  than  that  he  should  have  come 
to  this  spot  this  afternoon,  Neither  was  it  at  all 

97 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

strange  that,  in  her  walk,  she  too,  should  be  at 
tracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  place.  But  the  feeling 
forced  itself  upon  him  nevertheless  that  this  perfectly 
natural  incident  was  a  great  event  in  his  life.  He 
knew  that  he  would  go  to  her  presently.  He  was 
painfully  aware  that  he  ought  not  to  be  thus  secretly 
watching  her,  but  he  hesitated  as  one  about  to  take 
a  step  that  could  never  be  retraced. 

She  started  when  he  appeared  in  the  doorway  of 
the  building  and  half-arose  from  her  place.  Then 
recognizing  him  she  dropped  back  on  the  grass ;  and 
there  was  a  half-amused  frown  on  her  face,  though 
her  cheeks  were  red.  She  was  indignant  with  herself 
that  she  should  be  blushing  like  a  schoolgirl  at  the 
presence  of  this  stranger  whose  name  even  she  did 
not  know. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Farwell,  I  fear  that  I 
startled  you,"  he  said,  hat  in  hand.  Already  Dan 
had  grown  so  accustomed  to  being  greeted  by  stran 
gers,  that  it  never  occurred  to  him  that  this  lady 
did  not  know  who  he  was. 

She  saw  the  sunlight  on  his  shaggy  red-brown 
hair,  and  the  fine  poise  of  the  well-shaped  head,  as 
she  answered  shortly,  "You  did." 

Woman-like  she  was  making  him  feel  her  anger  at 
herself;  and  also  woman-like,  when  she  saw  his  em 
barrassment  at  her  blunt  words  and  manner,  she 
smiled. 

"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  but  he  did  not  offer  to  go 
on  his  way. 

When  she  made  no  reply  but  began  rearranging 
her  handful  of  blossoms,  he  spoke  again,  remarking 

98 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

on  the  beauty  of  the  view  before  them ;  and  ventured 
to  ask  if  the  knoll  was  to  her  a  favorite  spot,  adding 
that  it  was  his  first  visit  to  the  place. 

"I  have  never  been  here  before  either/'  she  an 
swered.  The  brief  silence  that  followed  was  broken 
by  Dan. 

"We  seem  to  have  made  a  discovery/'  he  said, 
wondering  why  she  should  seem  confused  at  his  sim 
ple  remark.  "I  know  I  ought  to  go,"  he  continued. 
"I  will  if  you  say  the  word,  but — "  he  paused. 

"You  were  here  first,"  she  returned  with  a  smile. 
Really,  she  thought,  there  was  no  reason  why  she 
should  drive  him  away.  He  was  so  evidently  a 
gentleman,  and  the  place  was  on  the  public  thor 
oughfare. 

"Then  I  may  stay  ?"  He  dropped  on  the  grass  at 
her  feet  with  an  exclamation  of  satisfaction  and 
pleasure. 

Looking  away  over  the  landscape  where  the  clouds 
and  shadows  were  racing,  and  the  warm  autumn 
light  lay  on  the  varying  shades  of  green  and  brown, 
he  remarked:  "Do  you  know  when  I  see  a  bit  of 
out-doors  like  that,  on  such  a  day  as  this,  or  when 
I  am  out  in  the  woods  or  up  in  the  hills,  I  wonder 
what  men  build  churches  for,  anyway.  I  fear  I  must 
be  something  of  a  pagan,  for  I  often  feel  that  I  can 
worship  God  best  in  his  own  temple.  Quite  heathen 
ish  isn't  it?"  He  laughed,  but  under  the  laugh 
there  was  a  note  of  troubled  seriousness. 

She  looked  at  him  curiously.  "And  is  it  heathen 
ish  to  worship  God  outside  of  a  church  ?  If  it  is  I 
fear  that  I,  too,  am  a  heathen." 

99 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

He  noted  the  words  "I,  too,"  and  saw  instantly 
that  she  did  not  know  him  but  had  understood  from 
his  words  that  he  was  not  a  church  man.  He  felt 
that  he  ought  to  correct  her  false  impression,  that 
he  ought  to  tell  her  who  and  what  he  was,  but  he  was 
possessed  of  a  curious  feeling  of  reluctance  to  declare 
his  calling. 

The  truth  is,  Dan  Matthews  did  not  want  to  meet 
this  woman  as  a  priest,  but  as  a  man.  He  had  al 
ready  learned  how  the  moment  the  preacher  was  an 
nounced  the  man  was  pushed  into  the  background. 

While  he  hesitated  she  watched  him  with  increas 
ing  interest.  His  words  had  pleased  her ;  she  waited 
for  him  to  speak  again. 

"I  suppose  your  profession  does  keep  you  from 
anything  like  regular  church  attendance,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "I  have  found  that  sick 
people  do  not  as  a  rule  observe  a  one-day-in-seven 
religion.  But  it  is  not  my  professional  duties  that 
keep  me  from  church." 

"You  are  not  then — " 

"Decidedly  I  am  not,"  she  answered. 

"Keally,  you  surprise  me.  I  thought  of  course 
you  were  a  member  of  some  church." 

There  was  a  touch  of  impatience  in  her  quick  re 
ply.  "You  thought  'of  course'  ?  And  why  of  course, 
please  ?" 

He  started  to  answer,  but  she  went  on  quickly,  "I 
know  why;  because  I  am  a  woman,  the  weaker  sex!" 

It  is  not  possible  to  describe  the  fine  touch  in  her 
voice  when  she  said  "the  weaker  sex."  It  was  so 
delicately  done,  that  it  had  none  of  the  coarseness 

100 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

that  commonly  marks  like  expressions,  when  used 
by  some  women.  Dan  was  surprised  to  feel  that  it 
emphasized  the  fineness  of  her  character,  as  well  as 
its  strength. 

"Because  I  am  not  a  man  must  I  be  useless?"  she 
continued.  "Is  a  woman's  life  of  so  little  influence 
in  the  world  that  she  can  spend  it  in  make-believe 
living  as  little  girls  play  at  being  grown  up  ?  Have 
I  not  as  great  a  right  to  my  paganism  as  you  call  it,  as 
you  have  to  yours  ?" 

Again  he  saw  his  opportunity  and  realized  that  he 
ought  to  correct  her  mistake  in  assuming  from  his 
words  that  he  was  not  a  man  of  church  affiliation, 
but  again  he  passed  it  by  saying  slowly,  instead :  "I 
think  your  kind  of  paganism  must  be  a  very  splendid 
thing;  no  one  could  think  of  one  in  that  dress  as 
useless." 

"I  did  not  mean — " 

"I  understand  I  think,"  he  said  earnestly,  "but 
won't  you  tell  me  why  you  feel  so  about  the  church  ?" 

She  laughed  as  she  returned,  "One  might  think 
from  your  awful  seriousness  that  you  were  a 
preacher.  Father  Confessor,  -  if  you  please — "  she 
began  mockingly,  then  stopped — arrested  by  the  ex 
pression  of  his  face.  "Oh  I  beg  your  pardon,  have 
I  been  rude  ?" 

With  a  forced  laugh  he  answered,  "Oh  no,  indeed, 
not  at  all.  It  is  only  that  your  views  of  the  Chris 
tian  religion  surprise  me." 

"My  views  of  the  Christian  religion,"  she  repeated, 
very  serious  now.  "I  did  not  know  that  my  views 
of  Christianity  were  mentioned." 

101 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

He  was  bewildered.  "But  the  church !  You  were 
speaking  of  the  church." 

"And  the  church  and  Christianity  are  one  and 
the  same  of  course."  Again  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm, 
more  pronounced,  "You  will  tell  me  next,  I  suppose, 
that  a  minister  really  ministers." 

Dan  was  astonished  and  hurt.  He  had  learned 
much  of  the  spirit  of  Christianity  in  his  backwoods 
home,  but  he  knew  nothing  of  churches  except  that 
which  the  school  had  taught  him.  He  had  accepted 
the  church  to  which  he  belonged  at  its  own  valuation, 
highly  colored  by  biased  historians.  Such  words 
as  these  were  to  his  ears  little  less  than  sacrilege.  He 
was  shocked  that  they  should  come  from  one  whose 
personality  and  evident  character  had  impressed  him 
so  strongly.  His  voice  was  doubtful  and  perplexed 
as  he  said :  "But  is  not  that  true  church  of  Christ, 
which  is  composed  of  his  true  disciples,  Christian? 
Surely,  they  can  no  more  be  separated  than  the  sun 
can  be  separated  from  the  sunshine;  and  is  not  the 
ministry  a  vital  part  of  that  church  ?" 

Miss  Farwell,  seeing  him  so  troubled,  wondered 
whether  she  understood  him.  She  felt  that  she  was 
talking  too  freely  to  this  stranger,  but  his  questions 
drew  her  on,  and  she  was  curiously  anxious  that  he 
should  understand  her. 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  that  true  church  composed 
of  the  true  disciples  of  Christ,"  she  returned.  "And 
that  is  just  it,  don't  you  see  ?  This  true  church  that 
is  so  inseparable  from  the  religion  of  Christ  is  so  far 
forgotten  that  it  never  enters  into  any  thought  of  the 
church  at  all.  The  sun  always  shines,  it  is  true,  but 

102 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

we  do  not  always  have  the  sunshine.  There  are  the 
dark  and  stormy  days,  you  know,  and  sometimes 
there  is  an  eclipse.  To  me  these  are  the  dark  days, 
so  dark  that  I  wonder  sometimes  if  it  is  not  an 
eclipse."  She  paused  then  added  deliberately, 
"This  selfish,  wasteful,  cruel,  heartless  thing  that 
men  have  built  up  around  their  opinions,  and  whims, 
and  ambitions,  has  so  come  between  the  people  and 
the  Christianity  of  the  Christ,  that  they  are  begin 
ning  to  question  if,  indeed,  there  is  anywhere  such 
a  thing  as  the  true  church." 

Again  Dan  was  startled  at  her  words  and  by  her 
passionate  earnestness;  the  more  so  that,  in  the 
manner  of  her  speaking  as  in  her  words,  there  was 
an  impersonal  touch  very  unusual  to  those  who  speak 
on  religious  topics.  And  there  was  a  note  of  sad 
ness  in  her  voice  as  well.  It  was  as  if  she  spoke 
to  him  professionally  of  the  sickness  of  some  one 
dear  to  her  and  sought  to  keep  her  love  for  her 
patient  from  influencing  her  calm  consideration  of 
the  case. 

His  next  words  were  forced  from  him  almost 
against  his  will.  And  his  eyes  had  that  wide  ques 
tioning  look  so  like  that  of  his  mother.  "And  the 
ministry,"  he  said. 

She  answered,  "You  ask  if  the  ministry  is  not  a 
vital  part  of  the  church,  and  your  very  question  ex 
presses  conditions  clearly.  What  conception  of 
Christianity  is  it  that  makes  it  possible  for  us  to 
even  think  of  the  ministry  as  a  part  of  the  church? 
Why,  the  true  church  is  a  ministry!  There  can  be 
no  other  reason  for  its  existence.  But  don't  you 

103 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

see  how  we  have  come  to  think  of  the  ministry  as  we 
have  come  to  think  of  the  church  ?  It  is  to  us,  as  you 
say,  a  part  of  this  great  organization  that  men  have 
created  and  control,  and  in  this  we  are  right,  for  this 
church  has  made  the  minister,  and  this  minister  has 
in  turn  made  the  church.  They  are  indeed  insep 
arable." 

Dan  caught  up  a  flower  that  she  had  dropped  and 
began  picking  it  to  pieces  with  trembling  fingers. 

"To  me,"  he  said  slowly,  "the  minister  is  a  servant 
of  God.  I  believe,  of  course,  that  whatever  work  a 
man  does  in  life  he  must  do  as  his  service  to  the  race 
and  in  that  sense  he  serves  God.  But  the  min 
istry — "  he  reached  for  another  flower,  choosing  his 
words  carefully,  "the  ministry  is,  to  me,  the  highest 
service  to  which  a  man  may  be  called." 

She  did  not  reply  but  looked  away  over  the  valley. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  "is  it  not  so?" 

"If  you  believe  it,  then  to  you  it  is  so,"  she  an 
swered. 

"But  you — "  he  urged,  "how  do  you  look  upon  the 
minister  ?" 

"Why  should  I  tell  you?  What  difference  does 
it  make  what  I  think?  You  forget  that  we  are 
strangers."  She  smiled.  "Let  us  talk  about  the 
weather;  that's  a  safe  topic." 

"I  had  forgotten  that  we  are  strangers,"  he  said, 
with  an  answering  smile.  "But  I  am  interested  in 
what  you  have  said  because  you — you  have  evidently 
thought  much  upon  the  matter,  and  your  profession 
must  certainly  give  you  opportunities  for  observa- 


104 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAIST  MATTHEWS 

tion.  Tell  me,  how  do  you  look  upon  the  minister 
and  his  work?" 

She  studied  him  intently  before  she  answered. 
Then — as  if  satisfied  with  what  she  found  in  his  face, 
she  said  calmly:  "To  me  he  is  the  most  useless 
creature  in  all  the  world.  He  is  a  man  set  apart 
from  all  those  who  live  lives  of  service,  who  do  the 
work  of  the  world.  And  then  that  he  should  be 
distinguished  from  these  world-workers,  these  servers, 
by  this  noblest  of  all  titles — a  minister,  is  the  bit 
terest  irony  that  the  mind  of  the  race  ever  conceived." 

Her  companion's  face  was  white  now  as  he  an 
swered  quickly,  "But  surely  a  minister  of  the  gospel 
is  doing  God's  will  and  is  therefore  serving  God." 

She  answered  as  quickly,  "Man  serves  God  only 
by  serving  men.  There  can  be  no  ministry  but  the 
ministry  of  man  to  man." 

"But  the  minister  is  a  man." 

"The  world  cannot  accept  him  as  such,  because  his 
individuality  is  lost  in  the  church  to  which  he  be 
longs.  Other  institutions  employ  a  man's  time,  the 
church  employs  his  life;  he  has  no  existence  outside 
his  profession.  There  is  no  outside  the  church  for 
him.  The  world  cannot  know  him  as  a  man,  for  he 
is  all  preacher." 

"But  the  church  employs  him  to  minister  to  the 
world?" 

"I  cannot  see  that  it  does  so  at  all.  On  the  con* 
trary  a  church  employs  a  pastor  to  serve  itself.  To 
the  churches  Christianity  has  become  a  question  of 
fidelity  to  a  church  and  creed  and  not  to  the  spirit 


105 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  Christ.  The  minister's  standing  and  success  in 
his  calling,  the  amount  of  his  salary,  even,  depends 
upon  his  devotion  to  the  particular  views  of  the 
church  that  calls  him  and  his  ability  to  please  those 
who  pay  him  for  pleasing  them.  His  service  to  the 
world  does  not  enter  into  the  transaction  any  more 
than  when  you  buy  the  latest  novel  of  your  favorite 
author,  or  purchase  a  picture  that  pleases  you,  or 
buy  a  ticket  to  hear  your  favorite  musician.  We 
do  not  pretend,  when  we  do  these  things  that  we  are 
ministering  to  the  world,  or  that  we  are  moved  to 
spend  our  money  thus  to  serve  God,  even  though  there 
may  be  in  the  book,  the  picture,  or  the  music,  many 
things  that  will  make  the  world  better." 

The  big  fellow  moved  uneasily. 

"But"  he  urged,  eagerly,  "the  church  is  a  sacred 
institution.  It  is  not  to  be  compared  to  the  institu 
tions  of  men.  Its  very  purpose  is  so  holy,  so  differ 
ent  from  other  organizations." 

"Which  of  the  hundreds  of  different  sects  with 
their  different  creeds  do  you  mean  by  the  church  ?" 
she  asked  quickly.  "Or  do  you  mean  all  ?  And  if 
all  are  equally  sacred,  with  the  same  holy  purpose, 
why  are  they  at  such  variance  with  each  other  and 
why  is  there  such  useless  competition  between  them  \ 
How  are  these  institutions — organized  and  con 
trolled,  as  they  are,  by  men,  different  from  other 
institutions,  organized  and  controlled  by  the  same 
men?  Surely  you  are  aware  that  there  are  thou 
sands  of  institutions  and  organizations  in  the  world 
with  aims  as  distinctly  Christian  as  the  professed 


106 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA]ST  MATTHEWS 

object  of  the  church.  Why  are  these  not  as  holy  and 
sacred  ?" 

"But  the  church  is  of  divine  origin." 

"So  is  this  tree;  so  is  the  material  in  that  old 
building;  so  are  those  farms  yonder.  To  me  it  is 
only  the  spirit  of  God  in  a  thing  that  can  make  it 
holy  or  sacred.  Surely  there  is  as  much  of  God 
manifest  in  a  field  of  grain  as  in  any  of  these 
churches ;  why,  then,  is  not  a  corn  field  a  holy  insti 
tution  and  why  not  the  farmer  who  tends  the  field, 
a  minister  of  God  ?" 

"You  would  condemn  then  everyone  in  the 
church  ?"  he  asked  bitterly.  "I  cannot  think  that — 
I  know — "  he  paused. 

"Condemn  ?"  she  answered  questioningly,  "I  con 
demn?"  Those  deep  gray  eyes  were  turned  full 
upon  him,  and  he  saw  her  face  grow  tender  and  sad, 
while  the  sweet  voice  trembled  with  emotion.  "Who 
spoke  of  condemnation  ?  Is  that  just  the  question  ? 
Are  you  not  unfair  ?  In  my — "  she  spoke  the  words 
solemnly,  "my  ministry,  I  have  stood  at  the  bedside 
of  too  many  heroes  and  heroines  not  to  know  that  the 
church  is  filled  with  the  truest  and  bravest.  And 
that — Oh !  don't  you  see — that  is  the  awful  pity  of  it 
all.  That  those  true,  brave,  noble  lives  should  be 
the — the  cloud  that  hides  the  sun  ?  As  for  the  min 
istry,  one  in  my  profession  could  scarcely  help  know 
ing  the  grand  lives  that  are  hidden  in  this  useless 
class  set  apart  by  the  church  to  push  its  interests. 
The  ministers  are  useless  only  because  they  are  not 
free.  They  cannot  help  themselves.  They  are 


107 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

slaves,  not  servants.  Their  first  duty  is,  not  service 
to  the  soul-sick  world  that  so  much  needs  their  min 
istry,  but  obedience  to  the  whims  of  this  hideous 
monster  that  they  have  created  and  now  must  obey 
or — "  she  paused. 

"Or  what  ?"  he  said. 

She  continued  as  if  she  had  not  heard :  "They  are 
valued  for  their  fidelity  to  other  men's  standards, 
never  for  the  worth  of  their  own  lives.  They  are 
hired  to  give  always  the  opinions  of  others,  and  they 
are  denied  the  only  thing  that  can  make  any  life 
of  worth — freedom  of  self-expression.  The  surest 
road  to  failure  for  them  is  to  hold  or  express  opinions 
of  their  own.  They  are  held,  not  as  necessities,  but 
as  a  luxury,  like  heaven  itself,  for  which  if  men 
have  the  means  to  spare,  they  pay.  They  can  have 
no  real  fellowship  with  the  servants  of  the  race,  for 
they  are  set  apart  by  the  church  not  to  a  ministry 
but  from  it.  Their  very  personal  influence  is  less 
than  the  influence  of  other  good  men  because  the 
world  accepts  it  as  professional.  It  is  the  way  they 
earn  their  living." 

"But  do  you  think  that  the  ministers  themselves 
wish  to  be  so  set  apart  ?"  asked  Dan.  "I — I  am  sure 
they  must  all  crave  that  fellowship  with  the  workers." 

"I  think  that  is  true,"  she  answered.  "I  am  sure 
it  is  of  the  many  grand,  good  men  in  the  ministry 
whom  I  have  known." 

"Oh,"  he  said  quickly,  "then  there  are  good  men 
in  the  ministry  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  retorted,  "just  as  there  are  gold  and 
precious  stones  ornamenting  heathen  gods  and  pagan 

108 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

temples,  and  their  goodness  is  as  useless.  For 
whether  they  wish  it  or  not  the  facts  remain  that 
their  masters  set  them  apart  and  that  they  are  sepa 
rated,  and  I  notice  that  most  of  them  accept  grace 
fully  the  special  privileges,  and  wear  the  title  and  all 
the  marks  of  their  calling  that  emphasize  the  dis 
tinction  between  them  and  their  fellow  men." 

"Yet  you  wear  a  distinguishing  dress,"  he  said. 
"I  knew  your  calling  the  first  time  I  saw  you." 

She  laughed  merrily. 

"Well  what  amuses  you?"  he  demanded,  smiling 
himself  at  her  merriment. 

"Oh,  it's  so  funny  to  see  such  a  big  man  so  help 
less.  Really  couldn't  you  find  an  argument  of  more 
weight?  Besides  you  didn't  know  my  professioc 
the  first  time  you  saw  me.  I  only  wear  these  clothes 
when  I  am  at  work,  just  as  a  mechanic  wears  his 
overalls — and  they  are  just  as  necessary,  as  you 
know.  The  first  time  you — you  bumped  into  me,  I 
dressed  like  other  people  and  I  had  paid  full  fare, 
too.  Nurses  don't  get  clergy  credentials  from  the 
railroad." 

With  this  she  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Look  how 
long  the  shadows  are !  I  must  go  right  back  to  my 
patient  this  minute." 

As  she  spoke  she  was  all  at  once  painfully  con 
scious  again  that  this  man  was  a  stranger.  What 
must  he  think  of  her  ?  How  could  she  explain  that 
it  was  not  her  habit  to  talk  thus  freely  to  men  whom 
she  did  not  know?  She  wished  that  he  would  tell 
her  his  name  at  least. 

Slowly — silently  they  walked  together  across  the 

109 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

weed-grown  yard.  As  they  passed  through  the  gap 
in  the  tumble-down  fence,  Dan  turned  to  look  back, 
It  seemed  to  him  ages  since  he  had  entered  the  yard, 

"What's  the  matter,  have  you  lost  something  ?"  she 
asked. 

"No — that  is — I — perhaps  I  have.  But  never 
mind,  it  is  of  no  great  importance,  and  anyway  I 
could  not  find  it.  I  think  I  will  say  good-bye  now/' 
he  added.  "I'm  not  going  to  town  just  yet." 

Again  she  wondered  at  his  face,  it  was  so  troubled, 

He  watched  her  down  the  street  until  her  blue 
dress,  with  its  white  trimming  became  a  blur  in  the 
shadows.  Then  he  struck  out  once  more  for  the 
open  country. 


110 


CHAPTER  XL 

REFLECTIONS. 

"And  gradually,  out  of  the  material  of  his  school  experi 
ence,  he  built  again  the  old  bulwark,  behind  which  he  could 
laugh  at  his  confusion  of  the  hour  before." 

INGE  that  first  chance  meeting  at  the  depot 
when  he  had  looked  into  the  nurse's  eyes 
and  heard  her  voice  only  for  a  moment,  Dan 
had  not  been  able  to  put  the  young  woman  wholly 
out  of  his  mind.  The  incident  on  the  street  when 
she  had  gone  to  Denny,  and  the  scene  that  followed  in 
Denny's  home  had  strengthened  the  first  impression, 
while  the  meeting  at  the  old  Academy  yard  had 
stirred  depths  in  his  nature  never  touched  before. 
The  very  things  she  had  said  to  him  were  so  evidently 
born  out  of  a  nature  great  in  its  passion  for  truth 
and  in  its  capacity  for  feeling  that,  even  though  her 
words  were  biting  and  stung,  he  could  not  but  rejoice 
in  the  beauty  and  strength  of  the  spirit  they  revealed. 
The  usual  trite  criticisms  of  the  church  Dan  had 
heard,  and  had  already  learned  to  think  somewhat 
lightly  of  the  kind  of  people  who  commonly  make 
them.  But  this  young  woman — so  wholesome,  so 
good  to  look  at  in  her  sweet  seriousness,  so  strong 
in  her  womanliness  and  withal  so  useful  in  what 
she  called  her  ministry — this  woman  was — well,  she 
was  different. 

ill 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

Her  words  were  all  the  more  potent,  coming  as 
they  did  after  the  disquieting  thoughts  and  the  feel 
ing  of  dissatisfaction  that  had  driven  him  from  his 
study  that  afternoon.  The  young  minister  could  not 
at  first  rid  himself  of  the  hateful  suggestion  that 
there  might  be  much  truth  in  the  things  she  had  said. 
After  all  under  the  fine  words,  the  platitudes  and  the 
professions,  the  fact  remained  he  was  earning  his 
daily  bread  by  being  obedient  to  those  who  hired 
him.  He  had  already  begun  to  feel  that  his  work 
was  not  so  much  to  give  what  he  could  to  meet  the 
people's  need  as  to  do  what  he  could  to  supply  the 
wants  of  Memorial  Church,  and  that  his  very  chance 
to  serve  depended  upon  his  satisfying  these  self- 
constituted  judges.  He  saw  too,  that  these  same 
judges,  his  masters,  felt  the  dignity  of  their  posi 
tion  heavily  upon  them,  and  would  not  be  in  the 
least  backward  about  rendering  their  decision.  They 
would  let  him  know  what  things  pleased  them  and 
what  things  were  not  to  their  liking.  Their  opinions 
and  commandments  would  not  always  be  in  definite 
words,  perhaps,  but  they  would  be  none  the  less 
clearly  and  forcibly  given  for  all  that. 

He  had  spoken  truly  when  he  had  told  Miss  Far- 
well,  as  they  parted,  that  he  had  lost  something.  And 
now,  as  he  walked  the  country  road,  he  sought 
earnestly  to  regain  it;  to  find  again  his  certainty  of 
mind ;  to  steady  his  shaken  confidence  in  the  work 
to  which  he  had  given  his  life. 

Dan's  character  was  too  strong,  his  conviction  too 
powerful,  his  purpose  too  genuine,  for  him  to  be 
easily  turned  from  any  determined  line  of  thought  or 

112 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

action.  Certainly  it  would  require  more  than  the 
words  of  a  stranger  to  swing  him  far  from  his  course, 
even  though  he  felt  that  there  might  be  a  degree  of 
truth  in  them.  And  so,  as  he  walked,  his  mind 
began  shaping  answers  to  the  nurse's  criticism  and 
gradually,  out  of  the  material  of  his  school  experi 
ence,  he  built  again  the  old  bulwark,  behind  which 
he  could  laugh  at  his  confusion  of  the  hour  before. 

But  withal  Dan's  admiration  of  the  young 
woman's  mind  and  character  was  not  lessened. 
More,  he  felt  that  she  had  in  some  way  given  him  a 
deeper  view  into  her  life  and  thoughts  than  was  due 
a  mere  stranger.  He  was  conscious,  too,  of  a  sense 
of  shame  that  he  had,  in  a  way,  accepted-  her  con 
fidence  under  false  pretense.  He  had  let  her  be 
lieve  he  was  not  what  he  was.  But,  he  argued  with 
himself,  he  had  not  intentionally  deceived  her  and 
he  smiled  at  last  to  think  how  she  would  enjoy  the 
situation  with  him  when  she  learned  the  truth. 

How  different  she  was  from  any  of  the  women 
he  had  known  in  the  church !  They  mostly  accepted 
their  religious  views  as  they  would  take  the  doctor's 
prescription — without  question. 

And  how  like  she  was  to  his  mother ! 

Then  came  the  inevitable  thought — what  a  tri 
umph  it  would  be  if  he  could  win  such  a  character 
to  the  church.  What  an  opportunity!  Could  he 
do  it?  He  must. 

With  that  the  minister  began  putting  his  thoughts 
in  shape  for  a  sermon  on  the  ministry.  Determined 
to  make  it  the  effort  of  his  life,  he  planned  how  he 
would  announce  it  next  Sunday  for  the  following 

113 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

week,  and  how,  with  Dr.  Harry's  assistance,  he 
would  perhaps  secure  her  attendance  at  the  service. 

Meanwhile  Hope  Earwell  passing  quickly  along 
the  village  street  on  her  way  home  from  the  old 
Academy  yard,  was  beset  by  many  varied  and  con 
flicting  emotions.  Recalling  her  conversation  with 
the  man  who  was  to  her  so  nearly  a  total  stranger, 
she  felt  that  she  had  been  too  earnest,  too  frank.  It 
troubled  her  to  think  how  she  had  laid  bare  her 
deepest  feelings.  She  could  not  understand  how 
she  had  so  far  forgotten  her  habitual  reserve.  There 
was  a  something  in  that  young  man,  so  tall  and 
strong,  and  withal  so  clean  looking,  that  had  called 
from  her,  in  spite  of  herself,  this  exposition  of  her 
innermost  life  and  thoughts.  She  ought  not  to  have 
yielded  so  easily  to  the  subtle  demand  that  he — 
unconsciously  no  doubt — had  made. 

It  was  as  though  she  had  flung  wide  open  the  door 
to  that  sacred,  inner  chamber  at  which  only  the  most 
intimate  of  her  friends  were  privileged  to  knock. 
He  had  come  into  the  field  of  her  life  in  the  most 
commonplace  manner — through  the  natural  incident 
of  their  meeting.  He  should  have  stopped  there,  or 
should  have  been  halted  by  her.  The  hour  should 
have  been  spent  in  conversation  on  such  trivial  and 
commonplace  topics  as  usually  occupy  strangers 
upon  such  occasions,  and  they  should  have  parted 
strangers  still.  She  felt  that  after  this  exhibition 
of  herself,  as  she  termed  it  in  her  mind,  she  at  least 
was  no  stranger  to  him.  And  she  was  angry  with 
herself,  and  ashamed,  when  she  reflected  how  deeply 
into  her  life  he  had  entered ;  angry  with  him  too,  in 

114 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

a  way,  that  he  had  gained  this  admittance  with 
apparently  no  effort. 

She  reflected  too,  that  while  she  had  so  freely 
opened  the  door  to  him,  and  had  admitted  him  with 
a  confidence  wholly  inexcusable,  he  had  in  no  way 
returned  that  confidence.  She  searched  her  memory 
for  some  word — some  expression  of  his,  that  would 
even  hint  at  what  he  thought,  or  believed,  or  was, 
within  himself;  something  that  would  justify  her 
in  feeling  that  she  knew  him  even  a  little.  But 
there  was  nothing.  It  was  as  though  this  stranger, 
whom  she  had  admitted  into  the  privacy  of  the  inner 
chamber,  had  worn  mask  and  gown.  No  self -betray 
ing  expression  had  escaped  him.  He  had  not  even 
told  her  his  name.  While  she  had  laid  out  for  his 
inspection  the  strongest  passions  of  her  life ;  had  felt 
herself  urged  to  show  him  all,  and  had  kept  nothing 
hidden.  He  had  looked  and  had  gone  away  making 
no  comment. 

"Of  course,"  she  thought,  "he  is  a  gentleman,  and 
he  is  cultured  and  refined,  and  a  good  man  too." 
Of  this  she  was  sure,  but  that  was  nothing.  One 
does  not  talk  as  she  had  talked  to  a  man  just  because 
he  is  not  a  ruffian  or  a  boor.  She  wanted  to  know 
him  as  she  had  made  herself  known  to  him.  She 
could  not  say  why. 

The  nurse's  work  in  Corinth  was  nearly  finished; 
she  would  probably  never  meet  this  man  again.  She 
started  at  the  thought.  Would  she  ever  meet  him 
again  ?  What  did  it  matter  ?  And  yet — she  would 
not  confess  it  even  to  herself,  but  it  did,  somehow, 
seem  to  matter.  Of  one  thing  she  was  sure — he  was 

115 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

well  worth  knowing.  She  had  felt  that  there  was  a 
depth,  a  richness,  a  genuineness  to  him,  and  it  was 
this  feeling,  this  certainty  of  him,  that  had  led  her 
to  such  openness.  Yes — she  was  sure  there  were 
treasures  there — deep  within,  for  those  whom  he 
chose  to  admit.  She  wished — (why  should  she  not 
confess  it  after  all) — she  wished  that  she  might  be 
admitted. 

Hope  Earwell  was  alone  in  the  world  with  no  near 
living  relatives.  She  had  only  her  friends;  and 
friends  to  her  meant  more  than  to  those  who  have 
others  dearer  to  them  by  ties  of  blood. 

That  evening  when  Dr.  Harry  was  leaving  the 
house  after  his  visit  to  his  patient,  the  nurse  went 
with  him  to  the  door,  as  usual,  for  any  word  of  in 
struction  he  might  wish  to  give  her  privately. 

"Well,  Miss  Hope,"  he  said,  "you've  done  it." 

"What  have  I  done?"  she  asked,  startled. 

"Saved  my  patient  in  there.  She  would  have 
gone  without  a  doubt,  if  you  had  not  come  when  you 
did.  It's  your  case  all  right." 

"Then  I'm  glad  I  came,"  she  said  quietly.  "And 
I  may  go  back  soon  now,  may  I  not,  Doctor  ?" 

He  hesitated,  slowly  drawing  on  his  gloves. 

"Must  you  go  back  Miss  Farwell  ?  I — we  need 
you  so  much  here  in  Corinth.  There  are  so  many 
cases  you  know  where  all  depends  upon  the  nurse. 
There  is  not  a  trained  nurse  this  side  of  St.  Louis. 
I  am  sure  I  could  keep  you  busy."  There  was  some 
thing  more  than  professional  interest  in  the  keen 
eyes  that  looked  so  intently  into  her  own. 


116 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"  Thank  you  Doctor,  you  are  very  kind,  but  you 
know  Dr.  Miles  expects  me.  He  warned  me  the 
last  thing  before  I  left,  that  he  was  only  lending  me 
to  you  for  this  particular  case.  You  know  how  he 
says  those  things." 

"Yes,"  said  the  man  grimly,  "I  know  Miles.  It 
is  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  success,  that  he  will  be 
satisfied  with  nothing  but  the  best.  He  warned  me, 
too." 

He  watched  her  keenly.  "It  would  be  just  like 
Miles,"  he  thought,  "to  tell  the  young  woman  of  the 
particular  nature  of  the  warning."  But  Miss  Far- 
well  betrayed  no  embarrassing  knowledge,  and  the 
doctor  said,  "You  did  not  promise  to  return  to  Chi 
cago  did  you  ?" 

She  answered  slowly,  "No,  but  he  expects  me,  and 
I  had  no  thought  of  staying,  only  for  this  case." 

"Well  won't  you  think  of  it  seriously  ?  There  are 
many  nurses  in  Chicago.  I  don't  mean  many  like 
you — "  interrupting  himself  hastily — "but  here 
there  is  no  one  at  all,"  and  in  his  low-spoken  words 
there  was  a  note  of  interest  more  than  professional. 

She  lifted  her  face  frankly  and  let  him  look  deep 
into  her  eyes  as  she  answered — "I  appreciate  your 
argument,  Dr.  Abbott,  and — I  will  think  about  it." 

He  turned  his  eyes  away,  and  his  tone  was  quite 
professional  as  he  said  heartily,  "Thank  you,  Miss 
Farwell.  I  shall  not  give  up  hoping  that  we  may 
keep  you.  Good  night!" 

"Isn't  he  a  dear,  good  man?"  exclaimed  the  in 
valid,  as  the  nurse  re-entered  the  sick  room. 


117 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "he  is  a  good  man,  one  of 
the  best  I  think,  that  I  have  ever  known." 

The  patient  continued  eagerly,  "He  told  me  the 
ladies  could  come  here  for  their  Aid  Society  meet 
ing  next  week,  if  you  would  stay  to  take  care  of  me. 
You  will,  won't  you  dear?" 

The  nurse  busy  with  the  medicine  the  doctor  had 
left  did  not  answer  at  once. 

"I  would  like  it  so  much,"  came  the  voice  from 
the  bed. 

Hope  turned  and  went  quickly  to  her  patient 
saying  with  a  smile,  aOf  course  I  will  stay  if  you 
wish  it.  I  believe  the  meeting  will  do  you  good." 

"Oh  thank  you,  and  you'll  get  to  meet  our  new 
minister  then,  sure.  Just  to  think  you  have  never 
seen  him,  and  he  has  called  several  times,  but  you 
have  always  happened  to  be  out  or  in  your  room." 

"Yes,"  said  the  young  woman,  "I  have  managed 
to  miss  him  every  time." 

Something  in  the  voice,  always  so  kind  and  gen 
tle,  caused  the  sick  woman  to  turn  her  head  on  the 
pillow  and  look  at  her  nurse  intently. 

"And  you  haven't  been  to  church,  since  you  have 
been  here,  either." 

"Oh,  but  you  know  I  am  like  your  good  doctor  in 
that,  I  can  plead  professional  duties." 

"Dr.  Harry  is  always  there  when  he  can  possibly 
go.  I  never  thought  of  it  before.  Will  you  mind, 
dearie,  if  I  ask  you  whether  you  are  a  Christian  or 
not?  I  told  Sapphira  this  afternoon  that  I  knew 
you  were." 


118 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Yes,"  said  Hope,  "you  are  right.  I  cannot  often 
go  to  church,  but — "  and  there  was  a  ring  of  serious 
ness  in  her  voice  now,  "I  am  a  Christian  if  trying 
to  follow  faithfully  the  teachings  of  the  Christ  is 
Christianity." 

"I  was  sure  you  were,"  murmured  the  other, 
"Brother  Matthews  will  be  so  glad  to  meet  you.  I 
know  you  will  like  him." 

To  which  the  nurse  answered,  "But  you  will  be  in 
no  condition  for  the  visit  of  the  ladies,  if  I  don't 
take  better  care  of  you  now.  Did  you  know  that 
you  were  going  to  sleep  ?  Well  you  are.  You  have 
had  a  busy  day,  and  you  are  not  to  speak  another 
word  except  'good  night.7  I  am  going  to  turn  the 
light  real  low — so — And  now  I  am  going  to  sit  here 
and  tell  you  about  my  walk.  You're  just  to  shut 
your  eyes  and  listen  and  rest — rest — rest." 

And  the  low,  sweet  voice  told  of  the  flowers  and 
the  grass  and  the  trees,  the  fields  lying  warm  in  the 
sunlight,  with  the  flitting  cloud-shadows,  and  the 
hills  stretching  away  into  the  blue,  until  no  troubled 
thought  was  left  in  the  mind  of  the  sick  woman. 
Like  a  child  she  slept. 

But  as  the  nurse  talked  to  make  her  patient  forget, 
the  incident  of  the  afternoon  came  back,  and  while 
the  sick  woman  slept,  Hope  Farwell  sat  going  over 
again  in  her  mind  the  conversation  on  the  grassy 
knoll  in  the  old  Academy  yard,  recalling  every  word, 
every  look,  every  expression.  What  was  his  work  in 
life  ?  He  was  no  idler,  she  was  sure.  He  had  the 
air  of  a  true  worker,  of  one  who  was  spending  his  life 


119 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

to  some  purpose.  She  wondered  again  at  the  ex 
pression  on  his  face  as  she  had  seen  it  when  they 
parted.  Should  she  go  back  to  the  great  city  and 
lose  herself  in  her  work,  or — she  smiled  to  herself — 
should  she  yield  to  Dr.  Abbott's  argument  and  stay  in 
Corinth  a  little  longer  ? 


120 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  NURSE  FORGETS. 

"He  seemed  so  made  for  fine  and  strong  things." 

I  HE  affairs  of  Memorial  Church  were  boom 
ing. 

Or,  in  the  more  orthodox  language  of 
Elder  Jordan,  in  an  article  to  the  official  paper  of  the 
denomination,  "the  congregation  had  taken  on  new 
life,  and  the  Lord's  work  was  being  pushed  with  a 
zeal  and  determination  never  before  equalled.  The 
audiences  were  steadily  increasing.  The  interest 
was  reviving  in  every  department,  and  the  world 
would  soon  see  grand  old  Memorial  Church  taking 
first  place  in  Corinth,  if  not  in  the  state.  Already 
Reverend  Matthews  had  been  asked  to  deliver  a  spe 
cial  sermon  to  the  L.  M.  of  J.  B.'s,  who  would  attend 
the  service  in  a  body,  wearing  the  full  regalia  of  the 
order.  Surely  God  had  abundantly  blessed  the 
brethren  in  sending  them  such  an  able  preacher." 

The  week  following  Dan's  talk  with  Miss  Farwell 
in  the  old  Academy  yard,  the  ladies  of  the  Aid  So 
ciety  assembled  early,  and  in  unusual  numbers,  for 
their  meeting  at  the  home  of  Judge  Strong.  As 
the  announcement  from  the  pulpit  had  it — there  was 
business  of  great  importance  to  transact;  also  there 
was  work  on  hand  that  must  be  finished. 

The  business  of  importance  was  the  planning  of  a 

121 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

great  entertainment  to  be  given  in  the  opera  house, 
by  local  talent,  both  in  and  out  of  the  church,  for 
the  purpose  of  raising  money  that  the  church  still 
owed  their  former  pastor.  The  unfinished  work  was 
a  quilt  of  a  complicated  wheel  pattern.  Every  spoke 
of  each  wheel  contained  the  name  of  some  individual 
who  had  paid  ten  cents  for  the  honor.  The  hubs 
cost  twenty-five  cents.  When  finished  this  "beauti 
ful  work  of  the  Lord"  (they  said  their  work  was  the 
Lord's  work)  was  to  be  sold  to  the  highest  bidder; 
thereby  netting  a  sum  of  money  for  the  pulpit  fur 
niture  fund,  nearly  equal  to  the  cost  to  anyone  of 
the  leading  workers,  for  the  society's  entertainment, 
in  a  single  afternoon  or  evening,  for  what  would 
appear  in  the  Sunday  issue  of  the  Daily  Corinthian 
as  a  "social  event." 

It  must  not  be  understood  that  all  the  women  en 
rolled  as  members  of  Dan's  congregation  belonged  to 
the  Ladies'  Aid.  Only  the  workers  were  active  in 
that  important  part  of  the  "Body  of  Christ."  Many 
there  were  in  the  congregation,  quiet,  deeply — truly 
— religious  souls,  who  had  not  the  time  for  this 
service,  but  in  the  scheme  of  things  as  they  are,  those 
were  not  classed  as  active  members.  They  were  not 
of  the  inner  circle  on  the  inside.  They  were  reckoned 
as  counting  only  on  the  roll  of  membership.  But 
it  was  the  strength,  the  soul,  the  ruling  power,  the 
spirit  of  this  Temple  of  God  that  assembled  that 
afternoon  at  Judge  Strong's  big,  brown  house,  on 
Strong  Avenue,  just  beyond  Strong  Memorial 
Church. 


122 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN"  MATTHEWS 

The  Ally  came  also.  The  Ally,  it  is  said,  never 
misses  a  Ladies'  Aid  meeting  in  Corinth. 

Miss  Farwell  was  there  with  her  patient  as  she 
had  promised,  and  Mrs.  Strong  took  particular  care 
that  as  fast  as  they  arrived  each  one  of  her  guests 
met  the  young  woman.  To  some — women  of  the 
middle  class — the  trained  nurse,  in  her  blue  dress 
with  white  cap  and  apron,  was  an  object  of  unusual 
interest.  They  did  not  know  whether  to  rank  her 
with  servants,  stenographers,  sales-ladies  or  teachers. 
But  the  leading  ladies  (see  the  Daily  Corinthian) 
were  very  sure  of  themselves.  This  young  woman 
worked  for  wages  in  the  homes  of  people,  waited  on 
people ;  therefore  she  was  a  working  girl — a  servant. 

No  one  wasted  much  time  with  the  stranger.  The 
introduction  was  acknowledged  with  a  word  or  a  cool 
nod  and  an  unintelligible  murmur  of  something  that 
meant  nothing,  or — worse — with  a  patronizing  air, 
a  sham  cordiality  elaborately  assumed,  which  said 
plainly  "I  acknowledge  the  introduction  here,  be 
cause  this  is  the  Lord's  business.  You  will  be  sure 
please,  that  you  make  no  mistake  should  we  chance 
to  meet  again."  And  immediately  the  new  arrival 
would  produce  the  modern  weapon  of  the  Christian 
warfare,  needle,  thread  and  thimble;  and — hurry 
ing  to  the  side  of  some  valiant  comrade  of  her  own 
set — join  bravely  in  the  fray. 

That  quilt  was  attacked  with  a  spirit  that  was 
worth  at  least  a  half  column  in  the  denominational 
weekly,  while  the  sound  of  the  conflict  might  almost 
have  been  heard  as  far  as  Widow  MulhalPs  garden 


123 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

where  Denny  was  cheerily  digging  away,  with  his 
one  good  side,  while  the  useless,  crippled  arm  swung 
from  the  twisted  shoulder. 

To  Miss  Farwell  sitting  quietly — unobserved,  but 
observing — there  came  a  confused  sound  of  many 
voices  speaking  at  once,  with  now  and  then  a  sen 
tence  in  a  tone  stronger  than  the  common  din. 

"She  said  the  Memorial  Church  didn't  believe  in 
the  Spirit  anyhow,  and  that  all  we  wanted  was  to 
get  'em  in.  ...  I  told  them  that  Brother  Mat 
thews  would  surely  be  getting  some  of  their  folks 
before  the  year  was  out,  if  they  kept  on  coming  to 
our  services.  ...  I  says,  says  I — 'Brother 
Matthews  never  said  that;  you'd  better  read  your 
Bible.  If  you  can  show  me  in  the  Book  where  you 
get  your  authority  for  it,  I'll  quit  the  Memorial 
Church  right  then  and  join  yours'.  .  .  .  Yes, 
all  their  people  were  out.  .  .  .  Sure,  he's  their 
church  clerk.  I  heard  him  say  with  my  own  ears 
that  Brother  Matthews  was  the  biggest  preacher  that 
had  ever  been  in  Corinth.  .  .  .  I'll  venture  that 
sermon  next  Sunday  on  'The  Christian  Ministry' 
will  give  them  something  to  think  about.  .  .  . 
The  old  Doctor  never  misses  a  service  now.  Wouldn't 
it  be  great  if  we  was  to  get  him  ?  .  .  .  Wasn't 
that  solo  the  sweetest  thing?  .  .  .  Wish  he 
would  join;  we'd  be  sure  of  him  then.  .  .  . 
They  would  like  mighty  well  to  get  him  away  from  us 
if  they  could.  He'll  stay  fast  enough  as  long  as 
Charity  plays  the  organ !" 

There  was  a  laugh  at  this  last  from  a  group  near 
the  window  and  Miss  Charity  blushed  as  she  an- 

124 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

swered,  "I've  worked  hard  enough  to  get  him,  and  I 
certainly  intend  to  keep  him  if  I  can!  I've  been 
urging  all  the  girls  to  be  particularly  nice  to  him." 

Someone  nearer  to  Miss  Farwell  said,  in  low  tone 
—  Of  course  there's  nothing  in  it.  Charity's  just 
keeping  him  in  the  choir.  She  wouldn't  think  of 
anyone  but  the  preacher.  I  tell  you  if  Brother 
Matthews  knows  what's  best  for  him,  he  won't  miss 
that  chance.  I  guess  if  the  truth  was  known  old 
Nathan's  about  the  best  fixed  of  anyone  in  Corinth." 

Sometimes  a  group  would  put  their  heads  closer 
together  and  by  the  quick  glances  in  her  direction 
the  nurse  felt  that  she  was  contributing  her  full  share 
to  the  success  of  the  meeting.  On  one  of  these  occa 
sions  she  turned  her  back  on  the  company  to  speak  a 
few  words  to  her  patient  who  was  sitting  in  an  easy 
chair  a  little  apart  from  the  circle. 

The  invalid's  face  was  all  aglow.  "Isn't  it  fine !" 
she  said.  "I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  out  of  the  world. 
It's  so  kind  of  these  dear  sisters  to  have  the  meeting 
here  today  so  that  I  could  look  on.  It's  so  good  of 
you  too,  dear,  to  stay  so  they  could  come."  She 
laughed.  "Do  you  know,  I  think  they're  all  a  little 
bit  afraid  of  you." 

The  nurse  smiled  and  was  about  to  reply  when 
there  was  a  sudden  hush  in  the  room  and  her  patient 
whispered  excitedly,  "He's  come!  Now  you'll  get 
to  meet  our  minister!" 

Mrs.  Strong's  voice  in  the  hall  could  be  heard 
greeting  the  new  arrival,  and  answering  her  the 
deeper  tones  of  a  man's  voice. 

Miss  Farwell  started.     Where  had  she  heard  that 

125 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

voice  before  ?  Then  she  felt  him  enter  the  room  and 
heard  the  ladies  greeting  him.  Something  held  her 
from  turning  and  she  remained  with  her  back  to  the 
company,  watching  her  patient's  face,  as  the  eyes  of 
the  invalid  followed  the  minister  about  the  room. 

Charity  alone  was  noting  the  young  woman's  too 
obvious  lack  of  interest. 

The  hum  had  already  commenced  again  when  Mrs. 
Strong's  hand  was  placed  lightly  on  the  nurse's  arm. 

"Miss  Farwell,  I  want  you  to  meet  our  minister, 
Reverend  Matthews." 

There  was  an  amused  smile  on  Dan's  face  as  he 
held  out  his  hand.  "I  believe  Miss  Farwell  and  I 
have  met  before." 

But  the  young  woman  ignored  the  out-stretched 
hand",  and  her  voice  had  an  edge,  as  she  answered, 
"It  is  possible  sir.  I  am  forced  to  meet  so  many 
strangers  in  my  profession,  you  know,  but  I — I  have 
forgotten  you." 

Charity  was  still  watching  suspiciously.  At  the 
minister's  words  she  started  and  a  touch  of  color 
came  into  her  pale  cheeks,  while  at  Miss  Farwell's 
answer  the  look  of  suspicion  in  her  eyes  deepened. 
What  could  it  mean? 

Dan's  embarrassment  was  unmistakable.  Before 
he  could  find  words  to  reply,  the  sick  woman  ex 
claimed,  "Why,  how  strange!  Do  tell  us  about  it, 
Brother  Matthews.  Was  it  here  in  Corinth  ?" 

In  a  flash  the  minister  saw  his  predicament.  If 
he  said  he  had  met  the  young  lady  in  Corinth  they 
would  know  that  it  was  impossible  that  she  should 
have  literally  forgotten  him.  He  understood  the 

126 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

meaning  of  her  words.  These  women  would  give 
them  a  hundred  meanings.  If  he  admitted  that  he 
was  wrong  and  that  he  had  not  met  her,  there  was 
always  the  chance  of  the  people  learning  of  that 
hour  spent  on  the  Academy  grounds. 

Meanwhile  the  young  woman  made  him  under 
stand  that  she  realized  the  difficulties  of  his  position, 
and  all  awaited  his  next  words  with  interest.  Look 
ing  straight  into  her  eyes  he  said,  "I  seem  to  have 
made  a  mistake.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Farwell." 

She  smiled.  It  was  almost  as  good  as  if  he  had 
deliberately  lied,  but  it  was  the  best  he  could  do. 

"Please  do  not  mention  it,"  she  returned,  with 
a  meaning  for  him  alone.  "I  am  sorry  that  I  will 
not  be  here  next  Sunday  to  hear  your  sermon  on 
'The  Christian  Ministry!'  So  many  have  urged  me 
to  attend.  There  is  no  doubt  it  will  be  interesting." 

"You  are  leaving  Corinth,  then?"  he  asked. 

At  the  same  moment  her  patient  and  Mrs.  Strong 
exclaimed,  "Oh  Miss  Hope,  we  thought  you  had  de 
cided  to  stay.  We  can't  let  you  go  so  soon." 

She  turned  from  the  man  to  answer  the  invalid. 

"Yes  I  must  go.  I  did  not  know  the  last  time 
we  talked  it  over,  but  something  has  happened  since 
that  makes  it  necessary.  I  shall  leave  tomorrow. 
And  now,  if  you  will  excuse  me  please,  I  will  run 
away  for  a  few  moments  to  get  my  things  together. 
You  are  doing  so  nicely,  you  really  don't  need  me  at 
all,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  stay  longer — 
now  that  I  have  met  the  minister."  She  bowed 
slightly  to  Dan  and  slipped  from  the  room. 

The  women  looked  significantly  at  one  another, 

127 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  the  minister  too  came  in  for  his  full  share  of  the 
curious  glances.  There  was  something  in  the  inci 
dent  that  they  could  not  understand  and  because 
Dan  was  a  man  they  naturally  felt  that  he  was  some 
how  to  blame.  It  was  not  long  until  Charity,  under 
the  pretext  of  showing  him  a  sacred  song  which  she 
had  found  in  one  of  Mrs.  Strong's  books,  led  him  to 
another  room,  away  from  the  curious  crowd. 

All  the  week  Dan  had  looked  forward  to  this 
meeting  of  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society  for  he  knew  that 
he  would  see  the  nurse  again.  Charmed  by  the 
young  woman's  personality  and  mind,  and  filled  with 
his  purpose  to  win  her  to  the  church,  he  was  deter 
mined,  if  chance  did  not  bring  it  about,  to  seek  an 
other  opportunity  to  talk  with  her.  He  had  smiled 
often  to  himself,  at  what  he  thought  would  be  a  good 
joke  between  them,  when  she  came  to  know  of  his 
calling.  Like  many  such  jokes  it  was  not  so  funny 
after  all.  Instead  of  laughing  with  him  she  had 
given  him  to  understand  that  the  incident  was  closed, 
that  there  must  be  no  attempt  on  his  part  to  continue 
the  acquaintance — that,  indeed,  she  would  not  ac 
knowledge  that  she  had  ever  met  him,  and  that  she 
was  so  much  in  earnest  that  she  was  leaving  Corinth 
the  next  day  because  of  him. 

"Really,  Brother  Matthews,  if  I  have  offended  you 
in  any  way,  I  am  very  sorry."  Dan  awoke  with  a 
start.  He  and  Charity  were  alone  in  the  room. 
From  the  open  door,  came  the  busy  hum  of  the 
workers  in  the  Master's  vineyard. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  what  were  you  saying?"  he 
murmured. 

128 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"I  have  asked  you  three  times  if  you  liked  the 
music  last  Sunday." 

Apologizingly  he  answered,  "Really  I  am  not  fit 
company  for  anyone  today." 

"I  noticed  that  you  seemed  troubled.  Can  I  help 
you  in  any  way?  Is  it  the  church?"  she  asked 
gently. 

He  laughed,  "Oh  no,  it's  nothing  that  anyone  can 
help.  It's  myself.  Please  don't  bother  about  it. 
I  believe  if  you  will  excuse  me,  and  make  my  excuses 
to  the  ladies  in  there,  I  will  go.  I  really  have  some 
work  to  do." 

She  was  watching  his  face  so  closely  that  she  had 
not  noticed  the  nurse  who  passed  the  window  and 
entered  the  garden.  Dan  rose  to  his  feet  as  he 
spoke. 

"Why,  Brother  Matthews,  the  ladies  expect  you 
to  stay  for  their  business  meeting,  you  know.  This 
is  very  strange." 

"Strange !  There  is  nothing  strange  about  it.  I 
have  more  important  matters  that  demand  my  atten 
tion — that  is  all.  It  is  not  necessary  to  interrupt 
them  now,  you  can  explain  when  the  business  meeting 
opens.  They  would  excuse  me  I  am  sure,  if  they 
knew  how  important  it  was."  And  before  poor 
Charity  had  time  to  fairly  grasp  the  situation  he  was 
gone,  slipping  into  the  hall  for  his  hat,  and  out  by  a 
side  door. 

Miss  Farwell  from  meeting  the  minister,  had  gone 
directly  to  her  room,  but  she  could  not  go  about  her 
packing.  Dropping  into  a  chair  by  the  window  she 
sat  staring  into  the  tops  of  the  big  maples.  She  did 

129 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

not  see  the  trees.  She  saw  a  vast  stretch  of  rolling 
country,  dotted  with  farm-buildings  and  stacks, 
across  which  the  flying  cloud-shadows  raced,  a  weed- 
grown  yard  with  a  gap  in  the  tumble-down  fence,  an 
old  deserted  school  building,  and  a  big  clean-looking 
man  standing,  with  the  sun-light  on  his  red-brown 
hair. 

"And  he — he  was  that."  She  had  thought  him 
something  so  fine  and  strong.  He  seemed  so  made 
for  fine  and  strong  things.  And  he  had  let  her  go 
on — leading  her  to  talk  as  she  would  have  talked 
only  to  intimate  friends  who  would  understand.  She 
had  so  wanted  him  to  understand.  And  then  he  had 
thought  it  all  a  joke!  The  gray  eyes  filled  with 
angry  tears,  and  the  fine  chin  quivered.  She  sprang 
to  her  feet.  "I  won't !"  she  said  aloud,  "I  won't  1" 

Why  should  she  indeed  think  a  second  time  of  this 
stranger — this  preacher?  The  room  seemed  close. 
She  felt  that  she  could  not  stay  another  minute  in 
the  house,  with  those  people  down  stairs.  Catching 
up  a  book,  she  crept  down  the  back  way  and  on  out  to 
a  vine  covered  arbor  that  stood  in  a  secluded  corner 
of  the  garden. 

Miss  Farwell  had  been  in  her  retreat  but  a  few 
minutes  when  the  sound  of  a  step  on  the  gravel  walk 
startled  her.  Then  the  doorway  was  darkened  by  a 
tall,  broad-shouldered  figure,  and  a  voice  said,  "May 
I  come  in?" 

The  gray  eyes  flashed  once  in  his  direction.  Then 
she  calmly  opened  her  book,  without  a  further  glance, 
or  a  sign  to  betray  her  knowledge  of  his  presence. 

"May  I  come  in  ?"  he  asked  again. 

130 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

She  turned  a  page  seeming  not  to  hear. 

Once  more  the  man  repeated  the  same  words  slowly 
— sadly. 

The  young  woman  turned  another  page  of  her 
book. 

Then  suddenly  the  doorway  was  empty.  She  rose 
quickly  from  her  place  and  started  forward.  Then 
she  stopped. 

Charity  met  him  on  his  way  to  the  gate. 

"Have  you  finished  that  important  business  so 
soon?"  she  asked  sharply.  Then  with  concern  at 
the  expression  of  his  face  she  exclaimed,  "Tell  me, 
won't  you,  what  is  the  matter !" 

He  tried  to  laugh  and  when  he  spoke,  his  voice 
was  not  his  voice  at  all. 

The  daughter  of  the  church  turned  to  watch  her 
minister  as  he  passed  through  the  gate,  out  of  the 
yard  and  down  the  street.  Then  she  went  slowly 
down  the  path  to  the  arbor,  where  she  found  a  young 
woman  crouched  on  the  wooden  bench  weeping  bitter 
tears — a  book  on  the  floor  at  her  feet. 

Quickly  Charity  drew  back.  Very  quietly  she 
went  down  the  walk  again.  And  as  she  went,  she 
seemed  all  at  once  to  have  grown  whiter  and  thin 
and  old. 


131 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

DR.  HARRY'S  CASE. 

"  'Whatever  or  whoever  is  responsible  for  the  existence 
of  such  people  and  such  conditions  is  a  problem  for  the  age 
to  solve.  The  fact  is,  they  are  here.' " 

| HE  meeting  of  the  Ladies'  Aid  adjourned  and 
its  members,  with  sighs  and  exclamations 
of  satisfaction  over  work  well  done,  sepa 
rated  to  go  to  their  homes — where  there  were  suppers 
to  prepare  for  hungry  husbands,  and  children  of  the 
flesh. 

Thus  always  in  the  scheme  of  things  as  they  are, 
the  duties  of  life  conflict  with  the  duties  of  religion. 
The  faithful  members  of  Memorial  Church  were 
always  being  interrupted  in  their  work  for  the  Lord 
by  the  demands  of  the  world.  And  as  they  saw  it, 
there  was  nothing  for  them  to  do  but  to  bear  their 
crosses  bravely.  What  a  blessed  thought  it  is  that 
God  understands  many  things  that  are  beyond  our 
ken! 

The  whistles  blew  for  quitting  time.  The  six 
o'clock  train  from  the  West  pulled  into  the  yards, 
stopped — puffing  a  few  moments  at  the  water  tank — 
and  thundered  on  its  way  again.  On  the  street, 
business  men  and  those  who  labored  with  their  hands 
hurried  from  the  scenes  of  their  daily  toil,  while  the 
country  folk  untied  their  teams  and  saddle-horses 

132 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

from  the  hitch-racks  to  return  to  their  waiting  fami 
lies  and  stock  on  the  distant  farms. 

A  few  miles  out  on  the  main  road  leading  north 
ward  the  home-going  farmers  passed  a  tired  horse 
hitched  to  a  dusty,  mud-stained  top-buggy,  plodding 
steadily  toward  the  village.  Without  exception  they 
hailed  the  driver  of  the  single  rig  heartily.  It  was 
Dr.  Harry  returning  from  a  case  in  the  backwoods 
country  beyond  Hebron. 

The  deep-chested,  long-limbed  bay,  known  to 
every  child  for  miles  around,  was  picking  her  own 
way  over  the  country  roads,  for  the  lines  hung  slack. 
Without  a  hint  from  her  driver  the  good  horse  slowed 
to  a  walk  on  the  rough  places  and  quickened  her 
pace  again  when  the  road  was  good,  and  of  her 
own  accord,  turned  out  for  the  passing  teams. 
The  man  in  the  buggy  returned  the  greetings  of 
his  friends  mechanically,  scarcely  noticing  who  they 
were. 

It  was  Jo  Mason's  wife  this  time.  Jo  was  a  good 
fellow  but  wholly  incapable  of  grasping,  single- 
handed,  the  problem  of  daily  life  for  himself  and 
brood.  There  were  ten  children  in  almost  as  many 
years.  Understanding  so  little  of  life's  responsibili 
ties  the  man's  dependence  upon  his  wife  was  pitiful, 
if  not  criminal.  With  tears  streaming  down  his 
lean,  hungry  face  he  had  begged,  "Do  somethin', 
Doc!  My  God  Almighty,  you  jest  got  to  do  some- 
thin'  !" 

For  hours  Dr.  Harry  had  been  trying  to  do  some 
thing.  Out  there  in  the  woods,  in  that  wretched, 
poverty-stricken  home,  with  only  a  neighbor  woman 

133 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  the  same  class  to  help  he  had  been  fighting  a  losing 
fight. 

And  now  while  the  bay  mare  was  making  her 
tired  way  home  he  was  still  fighting — still  trying  to 
do  something.  His  professional  knowledge  and  ex 
perience  told  him  that  he  could  not  win;  that,  at 
best,  he  could  do  no  more  than  delay  his  defeat  a  few 
days,  and  his  common  sense  urged  him  to  dismiss 
the  case  from  his  mind.  But  there  was  something 
in  Dr.  Harry  stronger  than  his  common  sense ;  some 
thing  greater  than  his  professional  skill.  And  so 
he  must  go  on  fighting  until  the  very  end. 

It  was  nearly  twilight  when  he  reached  the  edge 
of  the  hill  on  the  farther  side  of  the  valley.  He 
could  see  the  lights  of  the  town  twinkling  against  the 
dark  mass  of  tree  and  hill  and  building,  while  on  the 
faintly-glowing  sky  the  steeple  of  Memorial  Church, 
the  cupola  of  the  old  Academy  building,  and  the 
court-house  tower  were  cut  in  black.  Down  into  the 
dusk  of  the  valley  the  bay  picked  her  way,  and  when 
they  had  gained  the  hill  on  the  edge  of  town  it 
was  dark.  Now  the  tired  horse  quickened  her  pace, 
for  the  home  barn  and  Uncle  George  were  not  far 
away.  But  as  they  drew  near  the  big  brown  house 
of  Judge  Strong,  she  felt  the  first  touch  of  the  reins 
and  came  to  a  walk,  turning  in  to  the  familiar  hitch 
ing  post  with  reluctance. 

At  that  moment  a  tall  figure  left  the  Judge's  gate 
to  pass  swiftly  down  the  street  in  the  dusk. 

Before  the  bay  quite  came  to  a  stop  at  the  post 
her  master's  hand  turned  her  head  into  the  street 
again,  and  his  familiar  voice  bade  her,  somewhat 

134 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

sharply,  to  "go  on!"  In  mild  surprise  she  broke 
into  a  quick  trot.  How  was  the  good  horse  to  know 
that  her  driver's  impatience  was  all  with  himself, 
and  was  caused  by  seeing  his  friend,  the  minister 
coming — as  he  thought — from  the  Strong  mansion? 
Or  how  was  Dr.  Harry  to  know  that  Dan  had  only 
paused  at  the  gate  as  if  to  enter,  and  had  passed  on 
when  he  saw  the  physician  turning  in  ? 

Farther  down  the  street  at  the  little  white  cottage 
near  the  monument,  the  bay  mare  was  pulled  again 
to  a  walk,  and  this  time  she  was  permitted  to  turn 
in  to  the  curb  and  stop. 

The  old  Doctor  was  sitting  on  the  porch.  "Hello  1" 
he  called  cheerily,  "Come  in." 

"Not  tonight,  thank  you  Doctor,  I  can't  stop," 
answered  the  younger  man.  At  his  words  the  old 
physician  left  his  chair  and  came  stiffly  down  the 
walk  to  the  buggy.  When  he  was  quite  close,  with 
one  hand  grasping  the  seat,  Dr.  Harry  said  in  a  low 
tone,  "I'm  just  in  from  Mason's." 

"Ah  huh,"  grunted  the  other.  Then  inquiringly 
—"Well?" 

"It's— it's  pretty  bad  Doctor." 

The  old  man's  voice  rumbled  up  from  the  depth  of 
his  chest,  "Nothing  to  do,  eh  ?  You  know  I  told  you 
it  was  there.  Been  in  her  family  way  back.  Seen 
it  ever  since  she  was  a  girl." 

"Yes  I  knew  it  was  of  no  use,  of  course.  But 
you  know  how  it  is,  Doctor." 

The  white  head  nodded  understandingly  as  Dre 
Harry's  hand  was  slowly  raised  to  his  eyes. 

"Yes  I  know  Harry.     Jo  take  it  pretty  bad  ?" 

135 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Couldn't  do  anything  with  him,  poor  fellow,  and 
those  children,  too — " 

Both  men  were  silent.  Slowly  the  younger  man 
took  up  the  reins.  "I  just  stopped  to  tell  you, 
Doctor." 

"Ah  huh.  Well,  you  go  home  and  rest.  Get  a 
good  night  whatever  you  do.  You'll  have  to  go  out 
again,  I  suppose.  Call  me  if  anything  turns  up; 
I'm  good  for  a  little  yet.  You've  got  to  get  some 
rest,  Harry,  do  you  hear !"  he  spoke  roughly. 

"Thank  you,  Doctor.  I  don't  think  I  will  need  to 
disturb  you,  though ;  everybody  else  is  doing  nicely. 
I  can't  think  of  anything  that  is  likely  to  call  me 
out." 

"Well,  go  to  bed  anyway." 

"I  will,  good  night,  Doctor." 

"Good  night,  Harry." 

The  mare  trotted  on  down  the  dark  street,  past  the 
twinkling  lights.  The  Doctor  stood  by  the  curb 
until  he  heard  the  buggy  wheels  rattle  over  the  rail 
road  tracks,  then  turned  to  walk  stiffly  back  to  his 
seat  on  the  porch. 

Soon  the  tired  horse  was  in  the  hands  of  old 
Uncle  George,  while  Mam  Liz  ministered  to  the 
weary  doctor.  The  old  black  woman  lingered  in 
the  dining  room  after  serving  his  dinner,  hovering 
about  the  table,  calling  his  attention  to  various 
dishes,  watching  his  face  the  while  with  an  expres 
sion  of  anxiety  upon  her  own  wrinkled  countenance. 
At  last  Harry  looked  up  at  her  with  a  smile. 

"Well  Mam  Liz,  what  is  it  ?  Haven't  I  been  good 
today?" 

136 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"~No  sah,  Mars  Harry  yo  ain't.  Yo  been  plumb 
bad,  an'  I  feel  jest  like  I  uster  when  yo  was  er  little 
trick  an'  I  tuk  yo  'cross  my  knee  an'  walloped  yo 
good." 

"Why,  Mammy,  what  have  I  done  now  ?  Wasn't 
that  new  dress  what  you  wanted  ?  You  can  change 
it,  you  know,  for  anything  you  like." 

"Law,  chile,  'tain't  me.  Yo  ole  Mammy  mighty 
proud  o'  them  dress  goods — they's  too  fine  fo  ole 
nigger  like  me.  'Tain't  nothin'  yo  done  to  other 
folks,  Mars  Harry.  Hit's  what  yo  all's  doin'  to 
yoself."  A  tear  stole  down  the  dusky  cheek. 
"Think  I  can't  see  how  yo — yo  plumb  tuckered  out  ? 
Yo  ain't  slep  in  yo  bed  fo  three  nights  'ceptin'  jest 
fo  a  hour  one  mo'nin'  when  other  folks  was  er  gettin' 
up,  an'  only  the  Good  Lawd  knows  when  yo  eats." 

The  doctor  laughed.  "There,  there  Mammy,  you 
can  see  me  eating  now  all  right  can't  you  ?"  But  the 
old  woman  shook  her  head  mournfully. 

Harry  continued,  "One  of  your  dinners,  you  know, 
is  worth  at  least  six  of  other  folks'  cooking.  Fact — " 
he  added  grimly,  "I  believe  I  might  safely  say  a 
dozen."  Then  he  gave  her  a  laughing  description 
of  his  attempt  to  cook  breakfast  for  himself  and  the 
ten  children  at  the  Masons  that  morning. 

The  old  woman  was  proudly  indignant,  "Dem  po'r 
triflin'  white  trash!  To  think  o'  yo'  doin'  that  to 
sech  as  them!  Ain't  no  sense  'tall  in  sech  doin's, 
no  how,  Mars  Harry.  What  right  dey  got  to  ax  yo', 
any  how  ?  Dey  shore  ain't  got  no  claim  on  yo' — an' 
yo'  ain't  got  no  call  to  jump  every  time  sech  as  them 
crooks  they  fingers." 

137 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Dr.  Harry  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"Now  Mam  Liz,  I'm  afraid  you're  an  aristocrat." 

"Cos  I's  a  'ristocrat.  Ain't  I  a  Abbott  ?  Ain't  I 
bo'n  in  de  fambly  in  yo'  grandaddy's  time — ain't  I 
nuss  yo'  Pa  an'  yo  ?  'Ristocrat !  Huh !  Deed  I  is. 
No  sah,  Mars  Harry,  yo'  ought  to  know,  yo  ain't  got 
no  call  to  sarve  sech  as  them !" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  returned  slowly,  "I'm  afraid 
I  have." 

"Have  what?" 

"A  call  to  serve  such  as  them."  He  repeated  her 
words  slowly.  "I  don't  know  why  they  are,  or  how 
they  came  to  be.  Whatever  or  whoever  is  responsi 
ble  for  the  existence  of  such  people  and  such  con 
ditions  is  a  problem  for  the  age  to  solve.  The  fact 
is,  they  are  here.  And  while  the  age  is  solving  the 
problem,  I  am  sure  that  we  as  individuals  have  a 
call  to  personally  minister  to  their  immediate  needs." 
The  doctor  had  spoken  half  to  himself,  following  a 
thought  that  was  often  in  his  mind. 

It  was  a  little  too  much  for  the  old  servant.  She 
watched  him  with  a  puzzled  expression  on  her  face. 

"Talkin'  'bout  ministers,  de  Pa'son  was  here  to 
see  yo'  yest'day  evenin'." 

"Brother  Matthews?  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  at 
home." 

"Yes  sah,  I  was  sorry  too;  he's  a  right  pious- 
lookin'  man,  he  sho  is.  I  don  tole  him  de  Lawd 
only  knowed  whar  yo'  was  or  when  yo'd  git  back. 
He  laughed  an'  says  he  sho  de  Lawd  wasn't  far 
away  wherever  yo'  was,  an'  that  I  mus'  tell  yo'  hit 


138 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

was  only  a  little  call,  nothin'  of  impo'tance — so's  yo 
wouldn't  bother  'bout  it,  I  reckon." 

Dr.  Harry  rose  from  the  table.  "Perhaps  he  will 
run  in  this  evening.  No,  this  is  prayer  meeting 
night.  Heigh-ho!"  He  stretched  his  tired  body — 
"I  ought—" 

The  old  woman  interrupted  him.  "Now  look  a 
here  Mars  Harry,  yo'  ain't  goin'  to  leave  this  yer 
house  tonight.  Yo'  goin'  jest  put  on  yo'  slippa's  an* 
jacket  an'  set  down  in  thar  an'  smoke  yo'  pipe  a  lille 
an'  then  yo'  goin'  to  bed.  Yo'  ain't  et  'nough  to  keep 
er  chicken  'live,  an'  yo'  eyes  like  two  holes  burned  in 
er  blanket.  Won't  yo'  stop  home  an'  res',  honey?" 
she  coaxed,  following  him  into  the  hall.  "Yo'  plumb 
tuckered." 

The  weary  physician  looked  through  the  door  into 
the  library  where  the  lamp  threw  a  soft  light  over 
the  big  table.  The  magazines  and  papers  lay  un 
opened,  just  as  they  had  been  brought  from  the  office 
by  Uncle  George.  A  book  that  for  a  month,  Harry 
had  been  trying  to  read,  was  lying  where  he  had 
dropped  it  to  answer  a  call.  While  he  hesitated, 
the  old  negro  came  shuffling  in  with  the  doctor's 
smoking  jacket  and  slippers. 

"Yes  sah,  here  dey  is — an'  de  mare's  all  right — 
ain't  hurted  a  bit — takin'  her  feed  like  er  good  one. 
Oh,  I  tell  yo'  der  ain't  no  betta  on  de  road  dan  her." 

Dr.  Harry  laughed.  "Uncle  George,  I  give  you 
my  honest  professional  opinion — Mother  Eve  was 
sure  a  brunette."  As  he  spoke  he  slipped  out  of  his 
coat  and  Mam  Liz  took  it  from  his  hand,  while 


139 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Uncle  George  helped  him  into  the  comfortable 
jacket. 

"He — he — he — "  chuckled  the  old  servant.  "A 
brunette,  he — he.  That  air's  yo  Liz,  ol'  'oman,  yo' 
sho  brunette.  Yes  sah,  'pon  my  word,  Mars  Harry, 
I  believe  yo'.  He — he — " 

And  the  black  woman's  deep  voice  rolled  out — 
"Yo'  go  on  now — yo?  two,  'tain't  so — 'cause  Adam 
he  sho  po'r  white  trash.  Ain't  no  decent  colored 
body  goin'  to  have  no  truck  wid  sech  as  him." 

With  the  doctor's  shoes  in  his  hand  the  old  serv 
ant  stood  up,  "Anythin'  else,  sah  ?  No  ?  Good  night, 
sah!  Good  night,  Mars  Harry!"  They  slipped 
noiselessly  from  the  room. 

Is  there,  after  all,  anything  more  beautiful  in  life 
than  the  ministry  of  such  humble  ones,  whose  service 
is  the  only  expression  of  their  love  ? 

Many  of  the  Master's  truths  have  been  shamefully 
neglected  by  those  into  whose  hands  they  were  com 
mitted.  Many  of  His  grandest  lessons  are  ignored 
by  His  disciples,  who  ambitious  for  place  and  power 
— quarrel  among  themselves.  Many  of  His  noblest 
laws  have  been  twisted  out  of  all  resemblance  to  His 
spirit  by  those  who  interpret  them  to  meet  the  de 
mands  of  their  own  particular  sects  and  systems. 
But  of  all  the  truths  the  Master  has  given  to  men, 
none,  perhaps,  has  been  more  neglected,  or  abused 
than  the  simple  truth  He  illustrated  so  vividly  when 
He  washed  His  disciples'  feet. 

Left  alone  Dr.  Harry  picked  up  one  magazine 
after  another,  only  to  turn  the  leaves  impatiently  and 


140 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA3T  MATTHEWS 

— after  a  moment — toss  them  aside.  He  glanced  at 
his  medical  journal  and  found  it  dull.  He  took  up 
his  book  only  to  lay  it  down  again.  Decidedly  he 
could  not  read.  The  house  with  its  empty  rooms 
was  so  big  and  still.  He  seated  himself  at  his  piano 
but  had  scarcely  touched  the  keys,  when  he  rose  again 
to  go  to  the  window. 

"After  all,"  he  thought,  "it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  gone  to  prayer  meeting.  I  am  not  fit  to  be 
alone  tonight.  If  I  could  only  go  to  bed  and  sleep, 
but  I  feel  as  if  I  had  forgotten  how.  Those  Masons 
certainly  got  on  my  nerves."  Indeed,  the  strain  was 
plainly  visible,  for  his  face  was  worn  and  haggard. 
In  his  ears  poor  Jo's  prayer  was  ringing,  "Do  some- 
thin'  Doc!  My  God  Almighty,  you  jest  got  to  do 
somethin' !" 

Turning  from  the  window  the  doctor's  eyes  fell  on 
his  medicine  case,  which  Uncle  George  had  brought 
in  from  the  buggy  and  placed  near  the  hall  door. 

"Why  not?"  he  thought. 

Picking  up  the  case  he  went  to  the  table,  where 
he  opened  it  hesitatingly. 

"After  all,  why  not  '?"  he  repeated  half-aloud.  "I 
would  give  it  to  a  patient  in  my  condition." 

"But  the  patient  wouldn't  know  what  it  was,"  a 
voice  within  himself  answered. 

"I  need  something.  I — "  his  hand  went  out  to 
ward  the  case — "I  have  never  done  it  before." 

"You  have  seen  others  who  have,"  said  the  voice 
again. 

"This  is  an  exceptionally  trying  time,"  he  argued. 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"There  will  be  many  more  such  times  in  your 
practice." 

"But  I  must  get  some  rest  I"  he  cried,  "I  must !" 
He  reached  again  for  the  open  case  but  paused — 
startled  by  the  ringing  of  the  door-bell. 

Obeying  the  impulse  of  the  moment  he  dropped 
mto  his  chair  and  caught  up  a  paper. 

Mam  Liz's  voice,  in  guarded  tones  came  from  the 
Jhall,  "Yes  marm,  he's  to  home,  but  he's  plumb  tuck 
ered  out.  Is  yo'  got  to  see  him  ?  Yo'  ain't  wantin* 
him  to  go  out  agin  is  yo'  ?" 

Another  voice  answered,  but  the  listening  doctor 
sxmld  not  distinguish  the  reply. 

"Oh  sho  mam.  Come  in,  come  in.  He's  in  the 
library." 

A  moment  the  nurse  stood,  hesitating,  in  tho  door 
way. 

Dr.  Harry  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Miss  Farwell! 
I'm  glad  to  see  you.  I — "  Then  he  stopped  look 
ing  at  her  in  astonishment 

Very  softly  she  closed  the  door  behind  her,  and — 
going  to  the  table — closed  the  medicine  case.  Then 
lifting  her  eyes  to  him  with  a  meaning  look  she  said 
simply,  "I  am  glad,  too." 

He  turned  his  face  away.    "You — you  saw  ?" 

"The  window  shades  were  up.  I  could  not 
help  it." 

He  dropped  into  the  chair.  "I'm  a  weak  fool, 
Miss  Farwell.  No  man  in  my  profession  has  a  right 
to  be  so  weak." 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  she  said  gently.  "Your  profes 
sion — those  who  depend  upon  you  for  their  own  lives 

142 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  the  lives  of  their  dear  ones — you  must  remember 
that  always.  Your  ministry." 

He  raised  his  face  and  looked  at  her  squarely. 
"I  never  did  this  before.  You  believe  me,  Miss  Far- 
well,  that  this  is  the  first  time  ?" 

She  returned  his  look  frankly.  "Yes/'  she  said. 
"I  believe  you,  and  I  believe  it  will  be  the  last." 

And  it  was. 

For  there  was  something  in  that  voice,  something 
in  the  calm  still  depth  of  those  gray  eyes  that  re 
mained  with  Dr.  Harry  Abbott  and  whenever  after 
wards  he  reached  the  limit  of  his  strength,  whenever 
he  gave  so  much  of  himself  in  the  service  of  others 
that  there  was  nothing  left  for  himself — this  inci 
dent  came  back  to  him,  that  something  held  him — 
kept  him  strong. 

Very  quickly  the  nurse  changed  the  subject  and 
led  the  physician's  mind  away  from  the  sadness  and 
horror  of  his  work  that  had  so  nearly  wrought  such 
havoc.  The  big  empty  house  no  longer  seemed  so 
big  and  empty.  She  made  him  light  his  pipe  again 
and  soon  the  man  felt  his  tired  nerves  relax  while 
the  weary  brain  ceased  to  hammer  away  at  the  prob 
lems  it  could  not  solve. 

Then  at  last  she  told  him  why  she  had  come — to 
bid  him  good-bye. 

"But  I  thought  you  were  going  to  stay!"  lie 
cried. 

"I  had  thought  of  doing  so,"  she  admitted.  "But 
something — something  makes  it  necessary  for  me 
to  go." 

His  arguments  and  pleadings  were  in  vain.     Her 

143 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

only  answer  was,  "I  cannot,  Dr.  Abbott,  truly  I 
cannot."  NOT  would  she  tell  him  more  than  that  it 
was  necessary  for  her  to  go. 

"But  we  need  you  so.  I  need  you ;  there  is  no  one 
can  take  your  place — Hope — "  Then  he  stopped. 

She  was  frankly  permitting  him  to  look  deep  into 
her  eyes.  "I  am  sorry,  Doctor,  but  I  must  go." 
And  the  strength  of  her  held  him  and  made  him 
strong. 

"Just  one  thing,  Miss  Farwell.  You  are  not 
going  because  of — because  of  me  ?" 

She  held  out  her  hand.  "No  indeed,  Doctor. 
Whatever  you  think,  please  don't  think  that." 

He  would  have  accompanied  her  home  but  she 
would  not  permit  it  and  insisted  so  strongly  that  he 
retire  at  once,  that  he  was  forced  to  yield.  But  he 
would  not  say  good-bye,  declaring  that  he  would  be 
at  the  depot  in  the  morning  to  see  her  off. 

Mrs.  Oldham,  coming  home  from  prayer  meeting, 
found  her  husband  still  sitting  on  the  porch.  When 
she  could  not  force  him  to  listen  to  reason  and  go  to 
bed,  she  left  him  to  his  thoughts.  A  little  later  the 
old  Doctor  saw  the  tall  form  of  the  minister  turn  in 
at  the  gate  opposite.  Then  the  light  in  the  corner 
window  flashed  brightly.  A  few  moments  more, 
and  he  saw  a  woman  coming  down  the  street,  going 
toward  Judge  Strong's,  bearing  the  house  across 
the  way,  she  slackened  her  pace,  walking  very  slowly. 
Under  the  corner  window  she  almost  stopped.  As 
she  went  on  she  turned  once  to  look  back,  then  dis 
appeared  under  the  trees  in  the  dusk. 

It  was  almost  morning  when  Miss  Farwell  was 

144 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAST  MATTHEWS 

awakened  by  a  loud  knocking  at  the  front  door. 
Then  Mrs.  Strong  came  quickly  up  stairs  to  the 
nurse's  room.  The  young  woman  was  on  her  feet 
instantly. 

"That  old  negro  of  Dr.  Abbott  is  here  asking  for 
you,"  explained  Mrs.  Strong.  "He  says  Dr.  Harry 
sent  him  and  that  he  must  see  you.  What  in  the 
world  can  it  mean?" 


145 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

THAT  GIRL  OF  CONNER'S. 

"'You  will  tell  the  people  that  this  poor  child  wanted  to 
kill  herself,  and  the  people  will  call  it  suicide.  But,  by  Cred 
it's  murder !  Murder — I  tell  you !' " 

LIPPING  into  her  clothing  the  nurse  went 
down  to  the  front  door  where  Uncle  George 
was  waiting.  A  horse  and  buggy  stood  at 
the  front  gate. 

"Evenin'  mam,  is  yo'  de  nurse?"  said  the  old 
negro,  lifting  his  cap. 

"Yes,  I  am  the  nurse,  Miss  Farwell.  Dr.  Abbott 
sent  you  for  me?" 

"  'Deed  he  did,  mam,  'deed  he  did — said  I  was  to 
fetch  yo?  wid  big  Jim  out  dar.  Tol'  me  to  say  hit 
was  er  'mergency  case.  I  dunno  what  dat  is,  but  dey 
sho  needs  yo'  powerful  bad  over  in  Old  Town — 'deed 
dey  does."  . 

The  latter  part  of  this  speech  was  delivered  to  the 
empty  doorway.  The  nurse  was  already  back  in 
her  room. 

The  old  negro  rubbed  his  chin  with  a  trembling 
hand,  as  he  turned  with  a  puzzled  look  on  his  black 
face  from  the  open  door  to  the  horse  and  buggy  and 
back  to  the  door  again. 

"Dat  young  'oman  run  lak  a  scared  rabbit,"  he 
muttered.  "What  de  ole  scratch  I  do  now  ?" 

146 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Before  he  could  decide  upon  any  course  of  action, 
Miss  Farwell,  fully  dressed  was  by  his  side  again, 
and  half  way  to  the  gate  before  he  could  get  under 
way. 

"Come,"  she  said,  "you  should  have  been  in  the 
buggy  ready  to  start." 

"Yas'm,  yas'm,  comin'  coinin',"  he  answered, 
breaking  into  a  trot  for  the  rig,  and  climbing  in  by 
her  side.  "Come  Jim,  git!  Yo'  black  villen,  don'* 
yo'  know,  dis  here's  er  'mergency  case  ?  Yo'  sho  got 
to  lay  yo'  laigs  to  de  groun'  dis  night  er  yo'  goin'  to 
git  left  sartin!  'Mergency  case!"  he  chuckled. 
"Dat  mak  him  go,  Miss.  Funny  I  nebber  knowed 
dat  'fore." 

Sure  enough,  the  black  horse  was  covering  the 
ground  at  a  pace  that  fairly  took  Miss  Farwell's 
breath.  The  quick  steady  beat  of  the  iron-shod 
feet  and  the  rattle  of  the  buggy  wheels  echoed  loudly 
in  the  gray  stillness.  Above  the  tops  of  the  giant 
maples  that  lined  the  road,  the  nurse  saw  the  stars 
paling  in  the  first  faint  glow  of  the  coming  day, 
while  here  and  there  in  the  homes  of  some  early- 
rising  workers  the  lights  flashed  out,  and  the  peo 
ple — with  the  name  of  Dr.  Harry  on  their  lips — 
paused  to  listen  to  the  hurried  passing  of  big  Jim. 

"Can  you  tell  me  something  of  the  case?"  asked 
the  nurse. 

"Case  ?  Oh  you  mean  de  po'r  gal  what  tried  to 
kill  herse'f.  Yes,  Miss,  I  sho  can.  Yo'  see  hit's 
dis  away.  Hit's  dat  po'r  Conner  gal,  her  whose 
Daddy  done  killed  Jack  Mulhall,  de  town  marshal 
yo'  know.  De  Conners  used  to  be  nice  folks,  all 

147 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

'ceptin'  Jim.  He  drink  a  little  sometimes,  an'  den 
he  was  plumb  bad.  Seems  lak  he  got  worse  dat  way. 
An7  since  dey  took  him  off  an'  Mrs.  Conner  died  de 
gal,  she  don't  git  'long  somehow.  Since  she  left  de 
hotel  she's  been  livin'  over  in  Old  Town  along  some 
colored  folks,  upstairs  in  de  old  town-hall  building. 
I  knows  'bout  hit  'y  see,  coz  Liz  an'  me  we  all  got 
friends,  Jake  Smith  an'  his  folks,  livin'  in  de  same 
buildin',  yo  see.  Wai,  lately  de  gal  don't  'pear  to  be 
doin'  even  as  well  as  usual,  an'  de  folks  dey  got  plumb 
scared  she  ac'  so  queer  like.  Sometime  in  de  night, 
Jake  an'  Mandy  dey  waked  up  hearin'  a  moanin'  an' 
a  cryin'  in  de  po'r  gal's  room.  Dey  call  at  de  door 
but  dey  ain't  no  answer  an'  so  dey  stan  'round  for 
'while  'thout  knowin'  what  to  do,  till  de  cryin'  an' 
screechin'  gits  worse,  an'  things  'pears  to  be  smashin' 
round  lak.  Den  Mandy  say  to  de  folks  what's  been 
waked  up  an'  is  standin'  'round  de  door  she  ain't 
goin'  to  stan  dare  doin'  nothin'  no  mo',  an'  she  fo'ce 
open  de  door  an'  goes  in. 

"Yes  sah,  Miss  Nurse,  Mandy  say  dat  gal  jest 
throwin'  herself  'round  de  room  an'  screechin',  an' 
Mandy  grab  her  jest  as  she  'bout  to  jump  out  de 
winder.  She  won't  say  nothin'  but  how  she's  burnin' 
up  an'  Mandy  she  send  Jake  to  me  quick.  I  sho  don' 
want  to  wake  Dr.  Harry,  Miss  coz  he's  done  tuckered 
out,  but  I'se  scared  not  to,  coz  once  'fore  I  didn't 
wake  him  when  somebody  want  him  an'  I  ain't 
nebber  done  hit  no  more.  Go  on  dar,  Jim.  Yes 
sah,  Mars  Harry  Abbott  he's  a  debbil,  Miss,  when 
he's  mad,  'deed  he  is,  jest  lak  de  old  Mars — he's 
daddy.  So  I  calls  him  easy-like  but  Lawd — he's  up 

148 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

an'  dress  'fore  I  can  hook  up  big  Jim  here,  an'  we 
come  fer  Old  Town  on  de  run.  Quick  as  he  get  in  de 
room  he  calls  out  de  winder  fo'  me  to  drive  quick's 
I  can  to  de  Judge's  an'  fotch  yo.  An'  dat's  all  I 
know — 'ceptin'  Dr.  Harry  say  hit's  a  'mergency  case. 
We  most  dare  now.  Go  on  Jim — go  on  sah !" 

While  the  old  negro  was  speaking  the  big  horse 
was  whirling  them  through  the  quiet  streets  of  the 
village.  As  Uncle  George  finished  they  reached  the 
top  of  Academy  Hill,  where  Miss  Farwell  saw  the 
old  school  building — ghostly  and  still  in  the  mists 
that  hung  about  it  like  a  shroud,  the  tumble-down 
fence  with  the  gap  leading  into  the  weed-grown  yard, 
the  grassy  knoll  and  the  oak — all  wet  and  sodden 
now,  and — below,  the  valley — with  its  homes  and 
fields  hidden  in  the  thick  fog,  suggestive  of  hidden 
and  mysterious  depths. 

"Is  yo'  cold,  Miss  ?  We's  mos  dar,  now."  The 
nurse  had  shivered  as  with  a  sudden  chill. 

Turning  sharply  to  the  north  a  minute  later  they 
entered  the  square  of  Old  Town  where  a  herd  of 
lean  cows  were  just  getting  up  from  their  beds  to 
pick  a  scanty  breakfast  from  the  grass  that  grew 
where  once  the  farmer  folk  had  tied  their  teams, 
and  in  front  of  the  ruined  structure  that  had  once 
been  the  principal  store  of  the  village,  a  mother  sow 
grunted  to  her  squealing  brood. 

Long  without  touch  of  painter's  brush,  the  few 
wretched  buildings  that  remained  were  the  color  of 
the  mist.  To  the  nurse — like  the  fog  that  hid  the 
valley — they  suggested  cold  mysterious  depths  of  life, 
untouched  by  any  ray  of  promised  sun.  And  out  of 

149 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

that  dull  gray  abyss  a  woman's  voice  broke  sharply, 
on  the  stillness,  in  a  scream  of  pain. 

"Dat's  her,  dat's  de  po'r  gal,  now,  nurse.  Up  dare 
where  yo'  sees  dat  light." 

Uncle  George  brought  the  big  black  to  a  stand  in 
front  of  the  ancient  town-hall  and  court-house,  a 
two-story,  frame  building  with  the  stairway  on  the 
outside.  A  group  of  negroes  huddled — with  awed 
faces — at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  drew  back  as  the 
nurse  sprang  from  the  buggy  and  ran  lightly  up  the 
shaky  old  steps.  The  narrow,  dirty  hallway  was 
crowded  with  more  negroes.  The  odor  of  the  place 
was  sickening. 

Miss  Farwell  pushed  her  way  through  and  entered 
the  room  where  Dr.  Harry,  assisted  by  a  big  black 
woman,  was  holding  his  struggling  patient  on  the 
bed.  The  walls  and  ceiling  of  the  room — stained  by 
the  accumulated  smoke  of  years,  the  rough  bare  floor, 
the  window — without  shade  or  curtain,  the  only  fur 
niture — a  rude  table  and  a  chair  or  two,  a  little  stove 
set  on  broken  bricks,  a  handful  of  battered  dishes 
and  cooking  utensils,  a  trunk,  and  the  bed  with  its 
ragged  quilts  and  comforts,  all  cried  aloud  the  old, 
old  familiar  cry  of  bitter  poverty. 

Dr.  Harry  glanced  up  as  the  nurse  entered. 

"Carbolic  acid,"  he  said  quietly,  "but  she  didn't 
get  quite  enough.  I  managed  to  give  her  the  anti 
dote  and  a  hypodermic.  We  better  repeat  the  hypo 
dermic  I  think." 

Without  a  word  the  nurse  took  her  place  at  the 
bedside.  When  the  patient,  under  the  influence  of 
the  drug,  had  grown  more  quiet,  Dr.  Harry  dis- 

150 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

missed  the  negro  woman  with  a  few  kind  words,  and 
the  promise  that  he  would  send  for  her  if  she  could 
help  them  in  any  way.  Then  when  he  had  sent 
the  others  away  from  the  room  and  the  hallway  he 
turned  to  the  nurse. 

"Miss  Farwell,  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  forced  to 
send  for  you,  but  you  can  see  that  there  was  nothing 
else  to  do.  I  knew  you  would  come  without  loss  of 
time,  and  I  dared  not  leave  her  without  a  white 
woman  in  the  room."  He  paused  and  went  to  the 
bedside.  "Poor,  poor  little  girl.  She  tried  so  hard 
to  die,  nurse;  she  will  try  again  the  moment  she 
regains  consciousness.  These  good  colored  people 
would  do  anything  for  her,  but  she  must  see  one  of 
her  own  race  when  she  opens  her  eyes."  He  paused 
seemingly  at  a  loss  for  words. 

Miss  Farwell  spoke  for  the  first  time,  "She  is  a 
good  girl,  Doctor?  Not  that  it  matters  you  know, 
but—." 

Dr.  Harry  spoke  positively,  "Yes,  she  is  a  good 
girl ;  it  is  not  that,  nurse." 

"Then  how — "  Miss  Farwell  glanced  around  the 
room.  "Then  why  is  she  here  ?" 

No  one  ever  heard  Dr.  Harry  Abbott  speak  a 
bitter  word,  but  there  was  a  strange  note  in  his  voice 
as  he  answered  slowly,  "She  is  here  because  there 
seems  to  be  no  other  place  for  her  to  go.  She  did 
this  because  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  else  for  her 
to  do." 

Then  briefly  he  related  the  sad  history  of  this 
good  girl  with  a  bad  reputation.  "Dr.  Oldham  and  I 
tried  to  help  her,"  he  said,  "but  some  ugly  stories 

151 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

got  started  and  somehow  Grace  heard  them.  After 
that  she  avoided  us." 

For  a  little  while  there  was  silence  in  the  room. 
When  Dr.  Harry  again  turned  from  his  patient  to  the 
nurse,  Miss  Farwell  was  busily  writing  upon  his 
tablet  of  prescription  blanks  with  a  stub  of  a  pencil 
which  she  had  taken  from  her  pocket.  The  doctor 
watched  her  curiously  for  a  moment,  then  arose,  and 
taking  his  hat,  said  briskly:  "I  will  not  keep  you 
longer  than  an  hour  Miss  Farwell.  I  think  I  know 
of  a  woman  whom  I  can  get  for  today  at  least,  and 
perhaps  by  tonight  we  can  find  someone  else,  or  ar 
range  it  somehow.  I'll  be  back  in  plenty  of  time, 
so  don't  worry.  Your  train  does  not  go  until  ten- 
thirty,  you  know.  If  the  woman  can't  come  at 
once,  I'll  ask  Dr.  Oldham  to  relieve  you.7' 

The  nurse  looked  at  him  with  smiling  eyes,  "I 
am  very  sorry,  Dr.  Abbott,  if  I  am  not  giving  satis 
faction,"  she  said. 

The  physician  returned  her  look  with  amazement, 
"Not  giving  satisfaction!  What  in  the  world  do 
you  mean?" 

"Why  you  seem  to  be  dismissing  me,"  she  an 
swered  demurely.  "I  understood  that  you  sent  for 
me  to  take  this  case." 

At  the  light  that  broke  over  his  face  she  dropped 
her  eyes  and  wrote  another  line  on  the  paper  before 
her. 

"Do  you  mean — "  he  began,  then  he  stopped. 

"I  mean,"  she  answered,  "that  unless  you  send  me 
away  I  shall  stay  on  duty." 


152 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"But  Dr.  Miles — that  case  in  Chicago.  I  un 
derstood  from  you  that  it  was  very  important." 

She  smiled  at  him  again.  "There  is  nothing  so 
important  as  the  thing  that  needs  doing  now,"  she 
answered.  "And/7  she  finished  slowly,  turning  her 
eyes  toward  the  unconscious  girl  on  the  bed — "I 
do  seem  to  be  needed  here." 

"And  you  understand  there  will  be  no — no  fees  in 
this  case?"  he  asked. 

The  color  mounted  to  her  face.  "Is  our  work 
always  a  question  of  fees,  Doctor?  I  am  surprised, 
cannot  I  collect  my  bill  when  you  receive  yours  ?" 

He  held  out  his  hand  impulsively. 

"Forgive  me,  Miss  Farwell,  but  it  is  too  good  to  be 
true.  I  can't  say  any  more  now.  You  are  needed 
here — you  cannot  know  how  badly.  I — we  all  need 
you."  She  gently  released  her  hand,  and  he  con 
tinued  in  a  more  matter-of-fact  tone,  "I  will  go  now 
to  make  a  call  or  two  so  that  I  can  be  with  you  later. 
Your  patient  will  be  all  right  for  at  least  three  hours. 
I'll  send  Uncle  George  with  your  breakfast." 

"Never  mind  the  breakfast,"  she  said.  "If  you 
will  have  your  man  bring  these  things,  I  will  get 
along  nicely."  She  handed  him  a  prescription 
blank.  "Here  is  a  list  that  Mrs.  Strong  will  give 
him  from  my  room.  And  here — "  she  gave  him  an 
other  blank,  "is  a  list  he  may  get  at  the  grocery. 
And  here—"  she  handed  him  the  third  blank,  "is 
a  list  he  may  get  at  some  dry  goods  store.  I  have 
not  my  purse  with  me  so  he  will  need  to  bring  the 
bills.  The  merchants  will  know  him  of  course — " 


153 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Dr.  Harry  looked  from  the  slips  in  his  hand  to 
the  young  woman. 

"You  must  not  do  that,  Miss  Farwell.     Keally — " 

She  interrupted,  "Doctor,  this  is  my  case,  you 
know." 

"It  was  mine  first,"  he  answered  grimly. 

"But  Doctor—" 

"Shall  I  send  you  my  bill,  too  ?"  he  asked. 

A  few  moments  later  she  heard  the  quick  step  of 
big  Jim  and  the  rattle  of  the  wheels. 

Two  hours  had  passed  when  in  response  to  a  low 
knock,  the  nurse  opened  the  door  to  find  Dr.  Oldham 
standing  in  the  narrow  hall.  The  old  physician 
was  breathing  heavily  from  his  effort  in  climbing 
the  rickety  stairs.  His  arms  were  full  of  roses. 

Miss  Farwell  exclaimed  with  delight,  "Oh  Doctor, 
just  what  I  was  wishing  for!" 

"Uh  huh,"  he  grunted.  "I  thought  so.  They'll 
do  her  good.  Harry  told  me  what  you  were  up  to. 
Thought  I  better  come  along  in  case  you  should  need 
any  help." 

He  drew  a  chair  to  the  bedside,  while  the  nurse 
with  her  sleeves  rolled  up  returned  to  the  work  which 
his  knock  at  the  door  had  interrupted. 

Clean,  white  sheets,  pillows  and  coverings  had 
replaced  the  tattered  quilt  on  the  bed.  The  floor 
was  swept.  The  litter  about  the  stove  was  gone,  and 
in  its  place  was  a  big  armful  of  wood  neatly  piled, 
the  personal  offering  of  Uncle  George,  who  had  re 
turned  quickly  with  the  things  for  which  the  nurse 
had  sent.  The  dirt  and  dust  had  vanished  from  the 
windows.  The  glaring  light  was  softened  by  some 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAJST  MATTHEWS 

sort  of  curtain  material,  that  the  young  woman  had 
managed  to  fix  in  place.  The  bare  old  cupboard 
shelves  covered  with  fresh  paper  were  filled  with 
provisions,  and  the  nurse,  washing  the  last  of  the 
dishes  and  utensils,  was  placing  them  carefully  in 
order.  She  finished  as  Dr.  Oldham  turned  from  the 
patient,  and — throwing  over  the  rough  table  a  cloth 
of  bright  colors — began  deftly  arranging  in  such 
dishes  as  the  place  afforded,  the  flowers  he  had 
brought.  Already  the  perfume  of  the  roses  was  driv 
ing  from  the  chamber  that  peculiar,  sickening  odor  of 
poverty. 

The  old  physician,  trained  by  long  years  of  serv 
ice  to  habits  of  close  observation,  noted  every  detail 
in  the  changed  room.  Silently  he  watched  the  strong, 
beautifully  formed  young  woman  in  the  nurse's 
uniform,  bending  over  his  flowers,  handling  them 
with  the  touch  of  love  while  on  her  face,  and  in  the 
clear  gray  eyes,  shone  the  light  that  a  few  truly  great 
painters  have  succeeded  in  giving  to  their  pictures 
of  the  Mother  Mary. 

The  keen  old  eyes  under  their  white  brows  filled 
and  the  Doctor  turned  hastily  back  to  the  figure  on 
the  bed.  A  worn  figure  it  was — thin  and  looking  old 
— with  lines  of  care  and  anxiety,  of  constant  pain 
and  ceaseless  fear,  of  dread  and  hopelessness.  Only 
a  faint  suggestion  of  youth  was  there,  only  a  hint  of 
the  beauty  of  young  womanhood  that  might  have 
been;  nay  that  would  have  been — that  should  have 
been. 

Miss  Farwell  started  as  the  old  man  with  a  sud 
den  exclamation — stood  erect.  He  faced  the  young 

155 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

woman  with  blazing  eyes  and  quivering  face — his 
voice  shaken  with  passion,  as  he  said:  "Nurse,  you 
and  Harry  tell  me  this  is  suicide."  He  made  a 
gesture  toward  the  still  form  on  the  bed.  "You  will 
tell  the  people  that  this  poor  child  wanted  to  kill 
herself,  and  the  people  will  call  it  suicide.  But,  by 
God — it's  murder!  Murder — I  tell  you!  She  did 
not  want  to  kill  herself.  She  wanted  to  live,  to  be 
strong  and  beautiful  like  you.  But  this  community 
with  its  churches  and  Sunday  schools  and  prayer 
meetings  wouldn't  let  her.  They  denied  her  the 
poor  privilege  of  working  for  the  food  she  needed. 
They  refused  even  a  word  of  real  sympathy.  They 
hounded  her  into  this  stinking  hole  to  live  with  the 
negroes.  She  may  die,  nurse,  and  if  she  does — as  truly 
as  there  is  a  Creator,  who  loves  his  creatures — her 
death  will  be  upon  the  unspeakably  cruel,  pious,  self- 
worshiping,  churchified,  spiritually-rotten  people  in 
this  town!  It's  murder!  I  tell  you,  by  God — it's 
murder!"  The  old  man  dropped  into  his  chair  ex 
hausted  by  his  passionate  outburst. 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  no  sound  in  the  room 
save  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  physician.  The 
nurse  stood  gazing  at  him — a  look  of  mingled  sadness 
and  horror  on  her  face. 

Then  the  figure  on  the  bed  stirred.  The  sick 
girl's  eyes  opened  to  stare  wildly — wonderingly, 
about  the  room.  With  a  low  word  to  the  Doctor, 
Miss  Farwell  went  quickly  to  her  patient. 


156 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  MINISTER'S  OPPORTUNITY. 

"He  saw  only  the  opportunity  so  mysteriously  opened  to 
him." 

HEN"  Dan  left  Miss  Farwell  in  the  summer 
house  at  Judge  Strong's  he  went  straight 
to  his  room. 

Two  or  three  people  whom  he  met  on  the  way 
turned  when  he  had  passed  to  look  back  at  him. 
Mrs.  James  talking  over  the  fence  with  her  next 
door  neighbor,  wondered  when  he  failed  to  return 
her  greeting.  And  Denny  from  his  garden  hailed 
him  joyfully.  But  Dan  did  not  check  his  pace. 
Reaching  his  own  gate  he  broke  fairly  into  a  run, 
and  leaping  up  the  stairway,  rushed  into  his  room, 
closing  and  locking  his  door.  Then  he  stood,  breath 
ing  hard,  and  smiling  grimly  at  the  foolish  impulse 
that  had  made  him  act  for  all  the  world  like  a  thief 
escaping  with  his  booty. 

He  puzzled  over  this  strange  feeling  that  possessed 
him,  the  feeling  that  he  had  taken  something  that  did 
not  belong  to  him,  until  the  thought  struck  him  that 
there  might,  after  all,  be  good  reason  for  the  fancy; 
that  it  might  indeed  be  more  than  a  fancy. 

Pacing  to  and  fro  the  length  of  his  little  study  he 
recalled  every  detail  of  that  meeting  in  the  Academy 
yard.  And  as  he  remembered  how  he  had  con- 

157 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

sciously  refrained  from  making  known  his  position 
to  the  young  woman — not  once,  but  several  times 
when  he  knew  that  he  should  have  spoken,  and  how 
his  questions,  combined  with  the  evident  false  im 
pression  that  his  words  had  given  her  had  led  her 
to  speak  thoughts  she  would  never  have  dreamed  of 
expressing  had  she  known  him,  the  conviction  grew 
that  he  had  indeed — like  a  thief,  taken  something 
that  did  not  belong  to  him.  And  as  he  realized  more 
and  more  how  his  silence  must  appear  to  her  as 
premeditated,  and  reflected  how  her  fine  nature 
would  shrink  from  what  she  could  not  but  view  as 
a  coarse  ungentlemanly  trick  he  grew  hot  with  shame. 
IsTo  wonder,  he  told  himself,  that  he  had  instinctively 
shrunk  from  looking  into  the  faces  of  the  people 
whom  he  had  met  and  had  fled  to  the  privacy  of  his 
rooms. 

Dan  did  not  spare  himself  that  afternoon,  and  yet 
beneath  all  the  self  scorn  he  felt,  there  was  a  deeper 
sub-conscious  conviction,  that  he  was  not — at  heart — 
guilty  of  the  thing  with  which  he  charged  himself. 
This  very  conviction,  though  felt  but  dimly,  made 
him  rage  the  more.  He  had  the  hopeless  feeling  of 
one  caught  in  a  trap — of  one  convicted  of  a  crime  of 
which  in  the  eyes  of  the  law  he  was  guilty,  but  which 
he  knew  he  had  unwittingly  committed. 

The  big  fellow  in  so  closely  analyzing  the  woman's 
thoughts  and  feelings,  and  in  taking  so  completely 
her  point  of  view,  neglected  himself.  He  could  not 
realize  how  true  to  himself  he  had  been  that  after 
noon,  or  how  truly  the  impulse  that  had  prompted 


158 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

him  to  deny  his  calling  was  an  instinct  of  his  own 
strong  manhood — the  instinct  to  be  accepted  or  re 
jected  for  what  he  was  within  himself,  rather  than 
for  the  mere  accident  of  his  calling  and  position  in 
life. 

One  thing  was  clear,  he  must  see  Miss  Farwell 
again.  She  must  listen  to  his  explanation  and 
apology.  She  must  somehow  understand.  For 
apart  from  his  interest  in  the  young  woman  herself, 
there  was  that  purpose  of  the  minister  to  win  her  to 
the  church.  It  was  a  monstrous  thought  that  he 
himself  should  be  the  means  of  strengthening  her 
feeling  against  the  cause  to  which  he  had  given  his 
life.  So  he  had  gone  to  Judge  Strong's  home  early 
that  evening  determined  to  see  her.  But  at  the  gate, 
when  he  saw  Dr.  Harry  turning  in  as  if  to  stop,  he 
had  passed  on  in  the  dusk.  Later  at  prayer  meeting 
his  thoughts  were  far  from  the  subject  under  dis 
cussion.  His  own  public  petition  was  so  faltering 
and  uncertain  that  Elder  Jordan  watched  him  sus 
piciously. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  just  how  much  the 
interest  of  the  man  in  the  woman  colored  and 
strengthened  the  purpose  of  the  preacher  to  win  this 
soul  so  antagonistic  to  his  church. 

The  next  day,  Dan  was  putting  the  finishing 
touches  to  his  sermon  on  "The  Christian  Ministry" 
when  his  landlady  interrupted  him  with  the  news  of 
the  attempted  suicide  in  Old  Town.  Upon  hearing 
that  the  girl  had  at  one  time  been  a  member  of  his 
congregation,  he  went  at  once  to  learn  more  of  the 


159 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

particulars  from  Dr.  Oldham.  He  found  his  old 
friend  who  had  returned  from  Old  Town  a  half  hour 
before,  sitting  in  his  big  chair  on  the  front  porch  gaz 
ing  at  the  cast-iron  monument  across  the  way.  To  the 
young  man's  questions  the  Doctor  returned  only 
monosyllables  or  grunts  and  growls  that  might  mean 
anything  or  nothing  at  all.  Plainly  the  Doctor  did 
not  wish  to  talk.  His  face  was  dark  and  forbidding, 
and  under  his  scowling  brows,  his  eyes — when  Dan 
caught  a  glimpse  of  them — were  hard  and  fierce. 
The  young  man  had  never  seen  his  friend  in  such  a 
mood  and  he  could  not  understand. 

Dan  did  not  know  that  the  kind-hearted  old  phy 
sician  had  just  learned  from  his  wife  that  the  girl 
with  the  bad  reputation  had  called  at  the  house  to 
see  him  a  few  hours  before  she  had  made  the  attempt 
to  end  her  life,  and  that  she  had  been  sent  away  by 
the  careful  Martha  with  the  excuse  that  the  doctor 
was  too  busy  to  see  her.  Neither  could  the  boy 
know  how  the  old  man's  love  for  him  was  keeping 
him  silent  lest,  in  his  present  frame  of  mind,  he  say 
things  that  would  strengthen  that  something  which 
they  each  felt  had  come  between  them. 

Suddenly  the  Doctor  turned  his  gaze  from  the 
monument  and  flashed  a  meaning  look  straight  into 
the  brown  eyes  of  the  young  minister.  "She  was  a 
member  of  your  church.  Why  don't  you  go  to  see 
her  ?  Ask  the  nurse  if  there  is  anything  the  church 
can  do."  As  Dan  went  down  the  walk  he  added, 
"Tell  Miss  Farwell  that  I  sent  you."  Then  smiling 
grimly  he  growled  to  himself,  "You'll  get  valuable 


160 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  [MATTHEWS 

material  for  that  sermon  on  the  ministry,  or  I  miss 
my  guess." 

The  nurse !  The  nurse !  He  was  to  see  her  again ! 
The  thought  danced  in  Dan's  brain.  How  strangely 
the  opportunity  had  come.  The  young  minister  felt 
that  the  whole  thing  had,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
been  planned  to  the  end  he  desired.  In  the  care 
that  the  church  would  give  this  poor  girl  the  nurse 
would  see  how  wrongly  she  had  judged  it.  She 
would  be  forced  to  listen  to  him  now.  Surely  God 
had  given  him  this  opportunity ! 

What — the  poor  suicide  ? 

Oh,  but  Dan  was  not  thinking  of  the  suicide.  That 
would  come  later.  Just  now  his  mind  and  heart 
were  too  full  of  his  own  desire  to  win  this  young 
woman  to  the  church.  He  saw  only  the  opportunity 
so  mysteriously  opened  to  him.  Dan  was  thoroughly 
orthodox. 

So  in  the  brightness  of  the  afternoon  the  pastor 
of  Memorial  Church  went  along  the  street  that,  in 
the  gray  chill  of  the  early  morning,  had  echoed  the 
hurried  steps  of  the  doctor's  horse.  The  homes — 
so  silent  when  the  nurse  had  passed  on  her  mission — 
were  now  full  of  life.  The  big  trees — dank  and 
still  then,  now  stirred  softly  in  the  breeze,  and  rang 
with  the  songs  of  their  feathered  denizens.  The 
pale  stars  were  lost  in  the  infinite  blue  and  the  sun 
light  warmed  and  filled  the  air — flooding  street  and 
home  and  lawn  and  flower  and  tree  with  its  golden 
beauty.  At  the  top  of  Academy  Hill  Dan  paused. 
For  him  no  shroud  of  mist  wrapped  the  picturesque 


161 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

old  building;  no  fog  of  mysterious  depths  hid  the 
charming  landscape. 

Recalling  the  things  the  nurse  had  said  to  him 
there  under  the  oak  on  the  grassy  knoll,  and  thinking 
of  his  sermon  in  answer — he  smiled.  It  was  a  good 
sermon,  he  thought,  with  honest  pride — strong,  log 
ical,  convincing. 

And  it  was — at  that  moment. 

With  a  confident  stride  he  went  on  his  way. 


162 


CHAPTEK  XVI. 

DAN  SEES  THE  OTHER  SIDE. 

"  'What  right  have  you,  Mr.  Matthews,  to  say  that  you  do 
not  understand — that  you  do  not  know?  It  is  your  business 
to  understand — to  know/" 

|ISS  FAKWELL  was  alone  with  her  patient. 
Dr.  Harry,  who  had  returned  soon  after  the 
girl  regained  consciousness,  had  gone  out 
into  the  country,  promising  to  look  in  again  during 
the  evening  on  his  way  home,  and  the  old  Doctor 
finding  that  there  was  no  need  for  him  to  remain  had 
left  a  few  moments  later. 

Except  to  answer  their  direct  questions  the  sick 
girl  had  spoken  no  word,  but  lay  motionless — her 
face  turned  toward  the  wall.  Several  times  the 
nurse  tried  gently  to  arouse  her,  but  save  for  a  puz 
zled,  half-frightened,  half-defiant  look  in  the  wide- 
open  eyes,  there  was  no  response,  though  she  took  her 
medicine  obediently.  But  when  Miss  Farwell  after 
bathing  the  girl's  face,  and  brushing  and  braiding 
her  hair,  dressed  her  in  a  clean,  white  gown,  the 
frightened  defiant  look  gave  place  to  one  of  wonder 
ing  gratitude,  and  a  little  later  she  seemed  to  sleep. 
She  was  still  sleeping  when  Miss  Farwell,  who  was 
standing  by  the  window  watching  a  group  of  negro 
children  playing  ball  in  the  square,  saw  a  man  ap 
proaching  the  group  from  the  direction  of  the  village. 

163 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

The  young  woman's  face  flushed  as  she  recognized  the 
unmistakable  figure  of  the  minister. 

Then  an  angry  light  shone  in  the  gray  eyes,  and 
she  drew  back  with  a  low  exclamation.  As  in  evi 
dent  answer  to  his  question,  a  half  dozen  hands  were 
pointed  toward  the  window  where  she  stood.  Watch  - 
ing,  she  saw  him  coming  toward  the  building. 

His  purpose  was  clear.  What  should  she  do? 
Her  first  angry  impulse  was  to  refuse  to  admit  him, 
What  right  had  he  to  attempt  to  see  her  after  her  so 
positive  dismissal  ?  Then  she  thought — perhaps  he 
was  coming  to  see  the  sick  girl.  What  right  had  she 
to  refuse  to  admit  him,  when  it  could  in  no  way 
harm  her  patient  ?  The  room,  after  all,  was  the  home 
of  the  young  woman  on  the  bed — the  nurse  was  only 
there  in  her  professional  capacity. 

Miss  Farwell  began  to  feel  that  she  was  playing 
a  part  in  a  mighty  drama;  that  the  cue  had  been 
given  for  the  entrance  of  another  actor.  She  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  play  save  to  act  well  her  part, 
It  was  not  for  her  to  arrange  the  lines  or  manage  the 
parts  of  the  other  players.  The  feeling  possessed 
her  that,  indeed,  she  had  somewhere  rehearsed  the 
scene  many  times  before.  Stepping  quickly  to  the 
bed  she  saw  that  her  patient  was  still  apparently 
sleeping.  Then  she  stood  trembling,  listening  to  the 
step  in  the  hall  as  Dan  approached. 

He  knocked  the  second  time  before  she  could 
summon  strength  to  cross  the  room  and  open  the 
door. 

"May  I  come  in  ?"  he  asked  hat  in  hand. 

At  his  words — the  same  that  he  had  spoken  a  few 

164 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

hours  before  in  the  garden — the  nurse's  face  grew 
crimson.  She  made  no  answer,  but  in  the  eyes  that 
looked  straight  into  his,  Dan  read  a  question  and 
his  own  face  grew  red  as  he  said,  "I  called  to  see 
your  patient.  Dr.  Oldham  asked  me  to  come." 

"Certainly ;  come  in."  She  stepped  aside  and  the 
minister  entered  the  sick-room.  Mechanically,  with 
out  a  word  she  placed  a  chair  for  him  near  the  bed, 
then  crossed  the  room  to  stand  by  the  window.  But 
he  did  not  sit  down. 

Presently  Dan  turned  to  the  nurse.  "She  is 
asleep  ?"  he  asked  in  a  low  tone. 

Miss  FarwelPs  answer  was  calmly — unmistakably 
professional.  Looking  at  her  watch  she  answered, 
"She  has  been  sleeping  nearly  two  hours." 

"Is  there — will  she  recover?" 

"Dr.  Abbott  says  there  is  no  reason  why  she 
should  not  if  we  can  turn  her  from  her  determination 
to  die." 

Always  Dan  had  been  intensely  in  love  with  life. 
He  had  a  strong,  full-blooded  young  man's  horror  of 
death.  He  could  think  of  it  only  as  a  fitting  close 
to  a  long,  useful  life,  or  as  a  possible  release  from 
months  of  sickness  and  pain.  That  anyone  young, 
and  in  good  health,  with  the  world  of  beauty  and 
years  of  usefulness  before  them,  with  the  oppor 
tunities  and  duties  of  life  calling,  should  willfully 
seek  to  die,  was  a  monstrous  thought.  After  all  the 
boy  knew  so  little.  He  was  only  beginning  to  sense 
vaguely  the  great  forces  that  make  and  mar  human 
kind. 

At  the  calm  words  of  the  nurse  he  turned  quickly 

165 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

toward  the  bed  with  a  shudder.  "Her  determination 
to  die !"  he  repeated  in  an  awed  whisper. 

Miss  Farwell  was  watching  him  curiously. 

He  whispered  half  to  himself,  wonderingly,  "Why 
should  she  wish  to  die  ?" 

"Why  should  she  wish  to  live  ?"  The  nurse's  cold 
tones  startled  him. 

He  turned  to  her  perplexed,  wondering,  speech 
less. 

"I — I — do  not  understand,"  he  said  at  last. 

"I  don't  suppose  you  do,"  she  answered  grimly. 
"How  could  you  ?  Your  ministry  is  a  matter  of 
schools  and  theories,  of  doctrines  and  beliefs.  This 
is  a  matter  of  life." 

"My  church — "  he  began,  remembering  his  ser 
mon. 

But  she  interrupted  him,  "Your  church  does  not 
understand,  either;  it  is  so  busy  earning  money  to 
pay  its  ministers  that  it  has  no  time  for  such  things 
as  this." 

"But  they  do  not  know,"  he  faltered.  "I  did  not 
dream  that  such  a  thing  as  this  could  be."  He 
looked  about  the  room  and  then  at  the  still  form  on 
the  bed,  with  a  shudder. 

"You  a  minister  of  Christ's  gospel  and  ignorant 
of  these  things  ?  And  yet  this  is  not  an  uncommon 
case,  sir.  I  could  tell  you  of  many  similar  cases 
that  have  come  under  my  own  observation,  though 
not  all  of  them  have  chosen  to  die.  This  girl  could 
have  made  a  living ;  I  suppose  you  understand.  But 
she  is  a  good  girl ;  so  there  was  nothing  for  her  but 
this.  All  she  asked  was  a  chance — only  a  chance." 

166 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  minister  was  silent.     He  could  not  answer. 

The  nurse  continued,  "What  right  have  you,  Mr. 
Matthews,  to  say  that  you  do  not  understand — that 
you  do  not  know  ?  It  is  your  business  to  understand 
—to  know.  And  your  church — what  right  has  it  to 
plead  ignorance  of  the  life  about  its  very  doors  ?  If 
such  things  are  not  its  business  what  business  has 
this  institution  that  professes  to  exist  for  the  salva 
tion  of  men ;  that  hires  men  like  you — as  you  your 
self  told  me — to  minister  to  the  world  ?  What  right 
I  say,  have  you  or  your  church  to  be  ignorant  of  these 
everyday  conditions  of  life  ?  Dr.  Abbott  must  know 
his  work.  I  must  know  mine.  Our  teachers,  our 
legal  and  professional  men,  our  public  officers,  our 
mechanics  and  laborers,  must  all  know  and  under 
stand  their  work.  The  world  demands  it  of  us,  and 
the  world  is  beginning  to  demand  that  you  and  your 
church  know  your  business."  As  the  nurse  spoke  in 
low  tones  her  voice  was  filled  with  sorrowful,  pas 
sionate  earnestness. 

And  Dan,  Big  Dan,  sat  like  a  child  before  her — 
his  face  white,  his  brown  eyes  wide  with  that  ques 
tioning  look.  His  own  voice  trembled  as  he  an 
swered,  "But  the  people  are  not  beasts.  They  do 
not  realize.  At  heart  they — we  are  kind;  we  do 
not  mean  to  be  carelessly  cruel.  Do  you  believe 
this,  Miss  Farwell  ?" 

She  turned  from  him  wearily,  as  if  in  despair  at 
trying  to  make  him  understand. 

"Of  course  I  believe  it,"  she  answered.  "But  how 
does  that  affect  the  situation  ?  The  same  thing  could 
be  said,  I  suppose,  of  those  who  crucified  the  Christ, 

167 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  burned  the  martyrs  at  the  stake.  It  is  this 
system,  that  has  enslaved  the  people,  that  feeds  itself 
upon  the  strength  that  should  be  given  to  their  fellow 
men.  They  give  so  much  time  and  thought  and  love 
to  their  churches  and  creeds,  that  they  have  nothing 
left — nothing  for  girls  like  these."  Her  voice  broke 
and  she  went  to  the  window. 

In  the  silence  Dan  gazed  at  the  form  on  the  bed — 
gazed  as  if  fascinated.  From  without  came  the 
shouts  of  the  negro  boys  at  their  game  of  ball,  and 
the  sound  of  the  people  moving  about  in  other  parts 
of  the  building. 

"Is  there — is  there  no  one  who  cares?"  Dan 
said,  at  last  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

"No  one  has  made  her  feel  that  they  care,"  the 
nurse  answered,  turning  back  to  him,  and  her  manner 
and  tone  were  cold  again. 

"But  you,"  he  persisted,  "surely  you  care." 

At  this  the  gray  eyes  filled  and  the  full  voice 
trembled  as  she  answered,  "Yes,  yes  I  care.  How 
could  I  help  it  ?  Oh,  if  we  can  only  make  her  feel 
that  we — that  someone  wants  her,  that  there  is  a 
place  for  her,  that  there  are  those  who  need  her!" 
She  went  to  the  bedside  and  stood  looking  down  at 
the  still  form.  "I  can't — I  won't — I  won't  let 
her  go." 

"Let  us  help  you,  Miss  Farwell,"  said  Dan.  "Dr. 
Oldham  suggested  that  I  ask  you  if  the  church  could 
not  do  something.  I  am  sure  they  would  gladly 
help  if  I  were  to  present  the  case." 

The  nurse  wheeled  on  him  with  indignant,  scorn 
ful  eyes. 

168 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

He  faltered,  "This  is  the  churches'  work,  you 
know." 

"Yes,"  she  returned,  and  her  words  stung.  "You 
are  quite  right,  this  is  the  churches'  work." 

He  gazed  at  her  in  amazement  as  she  continued 
hotly,  "You  have  made  it  very  evident  Mr.  Mat 
thews,  that  you  know  nothing  of  this  matter.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  your  church  members  would  respond 
with  a  liberal  collection  if  you  were  to  picture  what 
you  have  seen  here  this  afternoon  in  an  eloquent 
public  appeal.  Some  in  the  fullness  of  their 
emotions  would  offer  their  personal  service.  Others 
I  am  sure  would  send  flowers.  But  I  suggest  that 
for  your  sake,  before  you  present  this  matter  to 
your  church  you  ask  Dr.  Oldham  to  give  you  a  full 
history  of  the  case.  Ask  him  to  tell  you  why  Grace 
Conner  is  trying  to  die.  And  now  you  will  pardon 
me,  but  in  consideration  of  my  patient,  who  may 
waken  at  any  moment,  I  dare  not  take  the  responsi 
bility  of  permitting  you  to  prolong  this  call." 

Too  bewildered  and  hurt  to  attempt  any  reply,  he 
left  the  room  and  she  stood  listening  to  his  steps  as  he 
went  slowly  down  the  hall  and  out  of  the  building. 

From  the  window  she  watched  as  he  crossed  the 
old  square,  watched  as  he  passed  from  sight  up  the 
weed-grown  street.  The  cruel  words  had  leaped 
from  her  lips  unbidden.  Already  she  regretted  them 
deeply.  She  knew  instinctively  that  the  minister 
had  come  from  a  genuine  desire  to  be  helpful.  She 
should  have  been  more  kind,  but  his  unfortunate 
words  had  brought  to  her  mind  in  a  flash,  the  whole 
hideous  picture  of  the  poor  girl's  broken  life.  And 

169 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  suggestion  of  such  help  as  the  church  would  give 
now,  came  with  such  biting  irony,  that  she  was 
almost  beside  herself. 

The  situation  was  not  at  all  new  to  Miss  Farwell. 
Her  profession  placed  her  constantly  in  touch  with 
such  ministries.  She  remembered  a  saloonkeeper 
who  had  contributed  liberally  to  the  funeral  expenses 
of  a  child  who  had  been  killed  by  its  drunken  father. 
The  young  woman  had  never  before  spoken  in  such 
cruel  anger.  Was  she  growing  bitter?  She  won 
dered.  All  at  once  her  cheeks  were  wet  with  scald 
ing  tears. 

Dan  found  the  Doctor  sitting  on  the  porch  just 
as  he  had  left  him.  Was  it  only  an  hour  before  ? 


170 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  TRAGEDY. 

"Now,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  face  to  face  with  existing 
conditions.  Not  the  theory  but  the  practice  confronted  him 
now.  Not  the  traditional,  but  the  actual.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
tragedy." 

|A!N"  went  heavily  up  the  path  between  the 
roses,  while  the  Doctor  observed  him  closely. 
The  young  minister  did  not  sit  down. 

"Well  ?"  said  the  Doctor. 

Dan's  voice  was  strained  and  unnatural.  "Will 
you  come  over  to  my  room  ?" 

Without  a  word  the  old  man  followed  him. 

In  the  privacy  of  his  little  study  the  boy  said, 
"Doctor,  you  had  a  reason  for  telling  me  to  ask  Miss 
Farwell  if  the  church  could  do  anything  for — for 
that  poor  girl.  And  the  nurse  told  me  to  ask  you 
about  the  case.  I  want  you  to  tell  me  about  her — all 
about  her.  Why  is  she  living  in  that  wretched 
place  with  those  negroes  ?  Why  did  she  attempt  to 
kill  herself  ?  I  want  to  know  about  this  girl  as  you 
know  her — as  Miss  Farwell  knows." 

The  old  physician  made  no  reply  but  sat  silent — 
studying  the  young  man  who  paced  up  and  down  the 
room.  When  his  friend  did  not  speak  Dan  said 
again,  "Doctor  you  must  tell  me !  I'm  not  a  child. 
What  is  this  thing  that  you  should  so  hesitate  to  talk 

171 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

to  me  freely?  I  must  know  and  you  must  tell  me 
now.'7 

"I  guess  you  are  right,  boy,"  returned  the  other 
slowly. 

To  Big  Dan,  born  with  the  passion  for  service  in 
his  very  blood  and  reared  amid  the  simple  surround 
ings  of  his  mountain  home,  where  the  religion  and 
teaching  of  the  old  Shepherd  had  been  felt  for  a  gen 
eration,  where  every  soul  was  held  a  neighbor — with 
a  neighbor's  right  to  the  assistance  of  the  community, 
and  where  no  one — not  even  the  nameless  "wood's 
colt" — was  made  to  suffer  for  the  accident  of  birth 
or  family,  but  stood  and  was  judged  upon  his  own 
life  and  living,  the  story  of  Grace  Conner  was  a 
revelation  almost  too  hideous  in  its  injustice  to  be 
believed. 

When  the  Doctor  finished  there  was  a  tense  silence 
in  the  minister's  little  study.  It  was  as  though  the 
two  men  were  witnessing  a  grim  tragedy. 

Trained  under  the  influence  of  his  parents  and 
from  them  receiving  the  highest  ideals  of  life  and 
his  duty  to  the  race,  Dan  had  been  drawn  irresistibly 
by  the  theoretical  self-sacrificing  heroism  and  tra 
ditionally  glorious  ministry  of  the  church.  Now, 
for  the  first  time,  he  was  face  to  face  with  existing 
conditions.  Not  the  theory  but  the  practice  con 
fronted  him  now.  Not  the  traditional,  but  the 
actual. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  tragedy. 

The  boy's  face  was  drawn  and  white.  His  eyes — 
wide  with  that  questioning  look — burned  with  a  light 


172 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

that  his  old  friend  had  not  seen  in  them  before — the 
light  of  suffering — of  agonizing  doubt. 

In  his  professional  duties  the  Doctor  had  been 
forced  to  school  himself  to  watch  the  keenest  suffer 
ing  unmoved,  lest  his  emotions  bias  his  judgment — 
upon  the  accuracy  of  which  depended  the  life  of  his 
patient.  He  had  been  taught  to  cause  the  cruelest 
pain  with  unshaken  nerve  by  the  fact  that  a  human 
life  under  his  knife  depended  upon  the  steadiness 
of  his  hand.  But  his  sympathy  had  never  been 
dulled — only  controlled  and  hidden.  So,  long  years 
of  contact  with  what  might  be  called  a  disease  of 
society,  had  accustomed  him  to  the  sight  of  conditions 
— the  revelation  of  which  came  with  such  a  shock  to 
the  younger  man.  But  the  Doctor  could  still  ap 
preciate  what  the  revelation  meant  to  the  boy. 
Knowing  Dan  from  his  childhood,  familiar  with  his 
home-training,  and  watching  his  growth  and  develop 
ment  with  personal,  loving  interest,  the  old  physician 
had  realized  how  singularly  susceptible  his  character 
was  to  the  beautiful  beliefs  of  the  church.  He  had 
foreseen,  too,  something  of  the  boy's  suffering  when 
he  should  be  brought  face  to  face  with  the  raw,  naked 
truths  of  life.  And  Dan,  as  he  sat  now  searching 
the  rugged,  but  kindly  face  of  his  friend,  realized 
faintly  why  the  Doctor  had  shrunk  from  talking  to 
him  of  the  sick  girl. 

Slowly  the  minister  rose  from  his  chair.  Aim 
lessly — as  one  in  perplexing,  troubled  thought — he 
went  to  the  window  and,  standing  there,  looked  out 
with  unseeing  eyes  upon  the  cast-iron  monument  on 


173 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  opposite  corner  of  the  street.  Then  he  moved 
restlessly  to  the  other  window,  and,  with  eyes  still 
unseeing,  looked  down  into  the  little  garden  of  the 
crippled  boy — the  garden  with  the  big  moss  and 
vine-grown  rock  in  its  center.  Then  he  went  to  his 
study  table  and  stood  idly  moving  the  books  and 
papers  about.  His  eye  mechanically  followed  the 
closely  written  lines  on  the  sheets  of  paper  that  were 
lying  as  he  had  left  them  that  morning.  He  started. 
The  next  moment,  with  quick  impatient  movement, 
he  crushed  the  pages  of  the  manuscript  in  his  power 
ful  hands  and  threw  them  into  the  waste  basket.  He 
faced  the  Doctor  with  a  grim  smile. 

"My  sermon  on  'The  Christian  Ministry.' ' 


174 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TO  SAVE  A  LIFE. 

"It  was  not  Hope  Farwell's  way  to  theorize  about  the 
causes  of  the  wreck,  or  to  speculate  as  to  the  value  of  inven 
tions  for  making  more  efficient  the  life-saving  service,  when 
there  was  a  definite,  immediate,  personal  something  to  be 
done  for  the  bit  of  life  that  so  closely  touched  her  own." 

IUBSE!" 

Miss  Farwell  turned  quickly.  The  girl 
on  the  bed  was  watching  her  with  wide 
wondering  eyes.  She  forced  a  smile.  "Yes,  dear, 
what  is  it  ?  Did  you  have  a  good  sleep  ?" 

"I  was  not  asleep.     I — oh  nurse,  is  it  true  ?" 

Hope  laid  a  firm,  cool  hand  on  the  hot  forehead, 
and  looked  kindly  down  into  the  wondering  eyes. 

"You  were  awake  while  the  minister  was  here  ?" 

"Yes  I— I— heard  it  all.      Is  it— is  it  true  2" 

"Is  what  true,  child  ?" 

"That  you  care,  that  anyone  cares  ?" 

Miss  Farwell's  face  shone  now  with  that  mother- 
look  as  she  lowered  her  head  until  the  sick  girl  could 
see  straight  into  the  deep  gray  eyes.  The  poor 
creature  gazed  hungrily — breathlessly. 

"Now  don't  you  know  that  I  care  ?"  whispered 
the  nurse,  and  the  other  burst  into  tears,  grasping 
the  nurse's  hand  in  both  her  own  and  with  a  reviving 
hope  clinging  to  it  convulsively. 

"I'm  not  bad,  nurse,"  she  sobbed.    "I  have  always 

175 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

been  a  good  girl  even  when — when  T  was  so  hungry. 
But  they — they  talked  so  about  me,  and  made  people 
think  I  was  bad  until  I  was  ashamed  to  meet  anyone. 
Then  they  put  me  out  of  the  church,  and  nobody 
would  give  me  work  in  their  homes,  and  they  drove 
me  away  from  every  place  I  got,  until  there  was  no 
place  but  this,  and  I  was  so  frightened  here  alone 
with  all  these  negroes  in  the  house.  Oh  nurse,  I 
didn't  want  to  do  it — I  didn't  want  to  do  it.  But  I 
thought  no  one  cared — no  one." 

"They  did  not  mean  to  be  cruel,  dear,"  said  the 
nurse  softly.  "They  did  not  understand.  You 
heard  the  minister  say  they  would  help  you  now." 

The  girl  gripped  Miss  Farwell's  hand  with  a 
shudder. 

"They  put  me  out  of  the  church.  Don't  let  them 
come,  don't !  Promise  me  you  won't  let  them  in." 

The  other  calmed  her.  "There,  there  dear,  I  will 
take  care  of  you.  And  no  one  can  put  you  away  from 
God;  you  must  remember  that." 

"Is  there  a  God,  do  you  think?"  whispered  the 
girl. 

''Yes,  yes  dear.  All  the  cruelty  in  the  world 
can't  take  God  away  from  us  if  we  hold  on.  We  all 
make  mistakes,  you  know,  dear — terrible  mistakes 
sometimes.  People  with  the  kindest,  truest  hearts 
sometimes  do  cruel  things  without  thinking.  Why, 
I  suppose  those  who  crucified  Jesus  were  kind  and 
good  in  their  way.  Only  they  didn't  understand 
what  they  were  doing,  you  see.  You  will  learn 
by-and-by  to  feel  sorry  for  these  people,  just  as  Jesus 
wept  over  those  who  he  knew*  were  going  to  torture 

176 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA^  MATTHEWS 

and  kill  him.  But  first  you  must  get  well  and  strong 
again.  You  will  now,  won't  you  dear  ?" 

And  the  whispered  answer  came,  "Yes,  nurse.  I'll 
try  now  that  I  know  you  care." 

So  the  strong  young  woman  with  the  face  of  the 
Mother  Mary  talked  to  the  poor  outcast  girl,  helping 
her  to  forget,  turning  her  thoughts  from  the  sadness 
and  bitterness  of  her  experience  to  the  gladness  and 
beauty  of  a  possible  future,  until — when  the  sun 
lighted  up  the  windows  on  the  other  side  of  the 
square  with  flaming  fire,  and  all  the  sky  was  filled 
with  the  glory  of  his  going — the  sick  girl  slept, 
clinging  still  to  her  nurse's  hand. 

In  the  twilight  Miss  Farwell  sat  in  earnest 
thought.  Deeply  religious — as  all  true  workers 
must  be — she  sought  to  know  her  part  in  the  coming 
scenes  of  the  drama  in  which  she  found  herself  cast. 

The  young  woman  felt  that  she  must  leave  Cor 
inth.  Her  experience  with  Dan  had  made  the  place 
unbearable  to  her.  And,  since  the  scene  that  after 
noon,  she  felt,  more  than  ever,  that  she  should  go. 
She  had  no  friends  in  Corinth  save  her  patient  at 
Judge  Strong's,  Mrs.  Strong,  the  two  doctors, 
Deborah  and  Denny.  At  home  she  had  many  friends. 
Then  from  the  standpoint  of  her  profession — and 
Hope  Farwell  loved  her  profession — her  opportuni 
ties  in  the  city  with  Dr.  Miles  were  too  great  to  be 
lightly  thrown  aside. 

But  what  of  the  girl  ?  This  girl  so  helpless,  so 
alone — who  buffeted  and  bruised,  had  been  tossed 
senseless  at  her  very  feet  by  the  wild  storms  of  life. 
Miss  Farwell  knew  the  fury  of  the  storm;  she  had 

177 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

witnessed  before  the  awful  strength  of  those  forces 
that  overwhelmed  Grace  Conner.  She  knew,  too, 
that  there  were  many  others  struggling  hopelessly  in 
the  pitiless  grasp  of  circumstances  beyond  their 
strength — single  handed — to  overcome. 

As  one  watching  a  distant  wreck  from  a  place  of 
safety  on  shore,  the  nurse  grieved  deeply  at  the  re 
lentless  cruelty  of  these  ungoverned  forces,  and 
mourned  at  her  own  powerlessness  to  check  them. 
But  she  felt  especially  responsible  for  this  poor 
creature  who  had  been  cast  within  her  reach.  Here 
was  work  to  her  hand.  This  she  could  do  and  it 
must  be  done  now,  without  hesitation  or  delay.  She 
could  not  prevent  the  shipwrecks;  she  could,  per 
haps,  save  the  life  of  this  one  who  had  felt  the  fury 
of  the  storm.  It  was  not  Hope  FarwelPs  way  to 
theorize  about  the  causes  of  the  wreck,  or  to  speculate 
as  to  the  value  of  inventions  for  making  more  ef 
ficient  the  life-saving  service,  when  there  was  a  defi 
nite,  immediate,  personal  something  to  be  done  for 
the  bit  of  life  that  so  closely  touched  her  own. 

There  was  no  doubt  in  the  nurse's  mind  now  but 
that  the  girl  would  live  and  regain  her  health.  But 
what  then?  The  people  would  see  that  she  was 
cared  for  as  long  as  she  was  sick.  Who  among  them 
would  give  her  a  place  when  she  was  no  longer  an 
object  of  ostentatious  charity  ?  Her  very  attempted 
suicide  would  mark  her  in  the  community  more 
strongly  than  ever,  and  she  would  be  met  on  every 
hand  by  suspicion,  distrust  and  cruel  curiosity. 
Then,  indeed,  she  would  need  a  friend — someone  to 
believe  in  her  and  to  love  her.  Of  what  use  to  save 

ITS 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  life  tossed  up  by  the  storm,  only  to  set  it  adrift 
again  ?  As  Miss  Farwell  meditated  in  the  twilight 
the  conviction  grew  that  her  responsibility  could  end 
only  when  the  life  was  safe. 

It  is,  after  all,  a  little  thing  to  save  a  life;  it  is 
a  great  thing  to  make  it  safe.  Indeed,  in  a  larger 
sense  a  life  is  never  saved  until  it  is  safe. 

When  Dr.  Harry  called,  later  in  the  evening  as  he 
had  promised,  he  handed  the  nurse  an  envelope. 
"'Mr.  Matthews  asked  me  to  give  you  this,"  he  said, 
''I  met  him  just  as  he  was  crossing  the  square.  He 
would  not  come  in  but  turned  back  toward  town." 

He  watched  her  curiously  as  she  broke  the  seal 
and  read  the  brief  note. 

"I  have  seen  Dr.  Oldham  and  he  has  told 
about  your  patient.  You  are  right — I  cannot 
present  the  matter  to  my  people.  I  thank  you. 
But  this  cannot  prevent  my  own  personal  minis 
try.  Please  use  the  enclosed  for  Miss  Conner, 
without  mentioning  my  name.  You  must  not 
deny  me  this.77 

The  "enclosed"  was  a  bill,  large  and  generous. 
Miss  Farwell  handed  the  letter  to  Dr.  Harry  with 
the  briefest  explanation  possible.  For  a  long  time 
the  doctor  sat  in  brown  study.  Then  making  no 
comment  further  than  asking  her  to  use  the  money 
as  the  minister  had  directed,  he  questioned  her  as 
to  the  patient's  condition.  When  she  had  finished 
her  report  he  drew  a  long  breath. 

"We  are  all  right  now,  nurse.  She  will  get  over 
this  nicely  and  in  a  week  or  two  will  be  as  good  as 
ever.  But — what  then  ?" 

179 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 

ON  FISHING. 

"  'It  is  not  for  you  to  waste  your  time  in  useless  specula 
tion  as  to  the  unknowable  source  of  your  life-stream,  or  in 
seeking  to  trace  it  in  the  ocean.  It  is  enough  for  you  that  it 
is,  and  that,  while  it  runs  its  brief  course,  it  is  yours  to  make 
it  yield  its  blessings.  For  this  you  must  train  your  hand  and 
eye  and  brain — you  must  be  in  life  a  fisherman.' " 

OME  boy/'  said  the  Doctor  at  last,  laying  his 
hand  upon  the  young  minister's  shoulder. 
"Come,  boy — let's  go  fishing.  I  know  a 
dandy  place  about  twelve  miles  from  here.  We'll 
coax  Martha  to  fix  us  up  a  bite  and  start  at  daylight. 
What  do  you  say?" 

"But  I  can't!"  cried  Dan.  "Tomorrow  is  Satur 
day  and  I  have  nothing  now  for  Sunday  morning." 
He  looked  toward  the  waste  basket  where  lay  his 
sermon  on  "The  Christian  Ministry." 

"Humph,"  grunted  the  Doctor.  "You'll  find  a 
better  one  when  you  get  away  from  this.  Older  men 
than  you,  Dan,  have  fought  this  thing  all  their  lives. 
Don't  think  that  you  can  settle  it  in  a  couple  of  days 
thinking.  Take  time  to  fish  a  little ;  it'll  help  a  lot. 
There's  nothing  like  a  running  stream  to  clear  one's 
mind  and  set  one's  thoughts  going  in  fresh  channels. 
I  want  you  to  see  Gordon's  Mills.  Come  boy,  let's 
go  fishing." 

The  evening  was  spent  in  preparation,  eager  an- 

180 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ticipation  and  discussion  of  the  craft,  prompted  by 
the  Doctor.  And  as  they  overhauled  flies  and  rods 
and  lines  and  reels,  and  recalled  the  many  delightful 
days  spent  as  they  proposed  to  spend  the  morrow, 
the  young  man's  thoughts  were  led  away  from  the 
first  real  tragedy  of  his  soul.  At  daylight,  after  a 
breakfast  of  their  own  cooking — partly  prepared  the 
night  before  by  Martha,  who  unquestionably  viewed 
the  minister's  going  away  on  a  Saturday  with  doubt 
ful  eyes — they  were  off. 

When  they  left  the  town  far  behind  and — follow 
ing  the  ridge  road  in  the  clear  wine-like  air  of  the 
early  day — entered  the  woods,  the  Doctor  laughed 
aloud  as  Dan  burst  forth  with  a  wild  boyish  yell. 

"I  couldn't  help  it  Doctor,  it  did  itself,"  he  said 
in  half  apology.  "It's  so  good  to  be  out  in  the  woods 
with  you  again.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  being  re-created 
already." 

"Yell  again,"  said  the  physician  with  another 
laugh,  and  added  dryly,  "I  won't  tell." 

Gordon's  Mills,  on  Gordon's  creek,  lay  in  a  deep, 
narrow  valley,  shut  in  and  hidden  from  the  world, 
by  many  miles  of  rolling,  forest-covered  hills.  The 
mill,  the  general  store  and  post  office,  and  the  black 
smith  shop  were  connected  with  Corinth,  twelve 
miles  away,  by  daily  stage — a  rickety  old  spring 
wagon  that  carried  the  mail  and  any  chance  passen 
ger.  Pure  and  clear  and  cold  the  creek  came  welling 
to  the  surface  of  the  earth  full-grown,  from  vast, 
mysterious,  subterranean  caverns  in  the  heart  of  the 
hills — and,  from  the  brim  of  its  basin,  rushed,  boil 
ing  and  roaring,  along  to  the  river  two  miles  distant, 

181 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

checked  only  by  the  dam  at  the  mill.  For  a  little  way 
above  the  dam  the  waters  lay  still  and  deep,  with 
patches  of  long  mosses,  vines  and  rushes,  waving  in 
its  quiet  clearness — forming  shadowy  dens  for  lusty 
trout,  while  the  open  places — shining  fields  and  lanes 
— reflected,  as  a  mirror,  the  steep  green-clad  bluff, 
and  the  trees  that  bent  far  over  until  their  drooping 
branches  touched  the  gleaming  surface. 

As  the  two  friends  tramped  the  little  path  at  the 
foot  of  the  bluff,  or  waded,  with  legs  well-braced,  the 
tumbling  torrent,  and  sent  their  flies  hither  and  yon 
across  the  boiling  flood  to  be  snatched  by  the  strong- 
hearted  denizens  of  the  stream,  Dan  felt  the  life  and 
freshness  and  strength  of  God's  good  world  entering 
into  his  being.  At  dinner  time  they  built  a  little 
fire  to  make  their  coffee  and  broil  a  generous  portion 
of  their  catch.  Then  lying  at  ease  on  the  bank  of 
the  great  spring,  they  talked  as  only  those  can  talk 
who  get  close  enough  to  the  great  heart  of  Mother 
Nature  to  feel  strongly  their  common  kinship  with 
her  and  with  their  fellows. 

After  one  of  those  long  silences  that  come  so  easily 
at  such  a  time,  Dan  tossed  a  pebble  far  out  into  the 
big  pool  and  watched  it  sink  down,  down,  down,  until 
he  lost  it  in  the  unknown  depths. 

"Doctor,  where  does  it  come  from?" 

"Where  does  what  come  from  ?" 

"This  stream.  You  say  its  volume  is  always  the 
same — that  it  is  unaffected  by  heavy  rains  or  long 
droughts.  How  do  you  account  for  it  ?" 

"I  don't  account  for  it,"  grunted  the  Doctor,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "I  fish  in  it." 

182 


-YOU   MUST  BE   IX   LIFE   A   FISHERMAN" 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Dan  laughed.  "And  that/'  he  said  slowly,  "is 
your  philosophy  of  life.'7 

The  other  made  no  answer. 

Choosing  another  pebble  carefully,  Dan  said, 
"Speaking  as  a  preacher — please  elaborate." 

"Speaking  as  a  practitioner — you  try  it,"  returned 
the  Doctor. 

The  big  fellow  stretched  himself  out  on  his  back, 
with  his  hands  clasped  beneath  his  head.  He  spoke 
deliberately. 

"Well,  you  do  not  know  from  whence  your  life 
comes,  and  it  goes  after  a  short  course,  to  lose  itself 
with  many  others  in  the  great  stream  that  reaches — 
at  last,  and  is  lost  in — the  Infinite."  The  Doctor 
seemed  interested.  Dan  continued,  half  talking  to 
himself:  "It  is  not  for  you  to  waste  your  time  in 
useless  speculation  as  to  the  unknowable  source  of 
your  life-stream,  or  in  seeking  to  trace  it  in  the  ocean. 
It  is  enough  for  you  that  it  is,  and  that,  while  it  runs 
its  brief  course,  it  is  yours  to  make  it  yield  its  bless 
ings.  For  this  you  must  train  your  hand  and  eye  and 
brain — you  must  be  in  life  a  fisherman." 

"Very  well  done,"  murmured  the  Doctor,  "for  a 
preacher.  Stick  to  the  knowable  things,  and  don't 
stick  at  the  unknowable;  that  is  my  law  and  my 
gospel." 

Dan  retorted,  "Now  let's  watch  the  practitioner 
make  a  cast." 

"Humph !    Why  don't  you  stop  it,  boy  ?" 

"Stop  what  ?"  Dan  sat  up. 

The  other  pointed  to  the  great  basin  of  water  that 
— though  the  stream  rushed  away  in  such  volume  and 

183 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

speed — was  never  diminished,  being  constantly  re 
newed  from  its  invisible,  unknown  source. 

The  young  man  shook  his  head,  awed  by  the  con 
templation  of  the  mighty,  hidden  power. 

And  the  Doctor — poet  now — said:  "No  more 
can  the  great  stream  of  love,  that  is  in  the  race  for  the 
race  and  that  finds  expression  in  sympathy  and  serv 
ice,  be  finally  stopped.  Fed  by  hidden,  eternal 
sources  it  will  somehow  find  its  way  to  the  surface. 
Checked  and  hampered,  for  the  moment,  by  obstacles 
of  circumstances  or  conditions,  it  is  not  stopped,  for 
no  circumstance  can  touch  the  source.  And  love 
will  keep  coming — breaking  down  or  rising  over  the 
barrier,  it  may  be — cutting  for  itself  new  channels, 
if  need  be.  For  every  Judge  Strong  and  his  kind 
there  is  a  Hope  Farwell  and  her  kind.  For  every 
cast-iron,  ecclesiastical  dogma  there  is  a  living,  grow 
ing  truth." 

Dan's  sermon  the  next  day,  given  in  place  of  the 
one  announced,  did  not  please  the  whole  of  his  people. 

"It  was  all  very  fine  and  sounded  very  pretty," 
said  Martha,  "but  I  would  like  to  know,  Brother 
Matthews,  where  does  the  church  come  in  ?" 


184 


CHAPTER  XX. 

COMMON  GROUND. 

"  'But  we  will  find  common  ground,'  he  exclaimed.  'Look 
here,  we  have  already  found  it!  This  garden — Denny's 
garden !' " 

|  HE  following  Tuesday  morning  Dan  was  at 
work  bright  and  early  in  Denny's  garden. 
Many  of  the  good  members  of  Memorial 
Church  would  have  said  that  Dan  might  better  have 
been  at  work  in  his  study. 

The  ruling  classes  in  this  congregation,  that  theo 
retically  had  no  ruling  classes,  were  beginning  to 
hint  among  themselves  of  a  humiliation  beyond  ex 
pression  at  the  spectacle,  now  becoming  so  common, 
of  their  minister  working  with  his  coat  off  like  an 
ordinary  laboring  man.  He  should  have  more  re 
spect  for  the  dignity  of  the  cloth.  At  least,  if  he 
had  no  pride  of  his  own,  he  should  have  more  regard 
for  the  feelings  of  his  membership.  Besides  this 
they  did  not  pay  him  to  work  in  anybody's  garden. 

The  grave  and  watchful  keepers  of  the  faith,  who 
held  themselves  responsible  to  the  God  they  thought 
they  worshiped,  for  the  belief  of  the  man  they  had 
employed  to  prove  to  the  world  wherein  it  was  all 
wrong  and  they  were  all  right,  watched  their  minis 
ter's  growing  interest  in  this  Catholic  family  with 
increasing  uneasiness. 

185 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  rest  of  the  church,  who  were  neither  of  the 
class  nor  of  the  keepers,  but  merely  passengers,  as  it 
were,  in  the  Ark  of  Salvation,  looked  on  with  puz 
zled  interest.  It  was  a  new  move  in  the  game  that 
added  a  spice  of  ginger  to  the  play  not  wholly  dis 
tasteful.  From  a  safe  distance  the  "passengers"  kept 
one  eye  on  the  "class"  and  the  other  on  the  "keep 
ers,"  with  occasionally  a  stolen  glance  at  Dan,  and 
waited  nervously  for  their  cue. 

The  world  outside  the  fold  awaited  developments 
with  amused  and  breathless  interest.  Everybody 
secretly  admired  the  stalwart  young  worker  in  the 
garden,  and  the  entire  community  was  grateful  that 
he  had  given  them  something  new  to  talk  about. 
Memorial  Church  was  filled  at  every  service. 

Meanwhile  wholly  unconscious  of  all  this,  Big  Dan 
continued  digging  his  way  among  the  potatoes,  help 
ing  the  crippled  boy  to  harvest  and  prepare  for 
market  the  cabbages  and  other  vegetables,  that  grew 
in  the  plot  of  ground  under  his  study  window,  never 
dreaming  that  there  was  aught  of  interest  either  to 
church  or  town  in  the  simple  neighborly  kindness. 
It  is  a  fact — though  Dan  at  this  time,  would  not 
have  admitted  it,  even  to  himself — that  the  hours 
spent  in  the  garden,  with  Denny  enthroned  upon 
the  big  rock,  and  Deborah  calling  an  occasional 
cheery  word  from  the  cottage,  were  by  far  the  most 
pleasant  hours  of  the  day. 

Every  nerve  and  muscle  in  the  splendid  warm 
blooded  body  of  this  young  giant  of  the  hills  called 
for  action".  The  one  mastering  passion  of  his  soul 
was  the  passion  for  deeds — to  do;  to  serve;  to  be 

186 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

used.  He  had  felt  himself  called  to  the  ministry 
by  his  desire  to  accomplish  a  work  that  would  be  of 
real  worth  to  the  world.  He  was  already  conscious 
of  being  somewhat  out  of  place  with  the  regular 
work  of  the  church:  the  pastoral  calls,  which  mean 
visiting,  day  after  day,  in  the  homes  of  the  members 
to  talk  with  the  women  about  nothing  at  all,  at  hours 
when  the  men  of  the  household  are  away  laboring, 
with  brain  or  hand,  for  the  necessities  of  life;  the 
meetings  of  the  various  women's  societies,  where  the 
minister  himself  is  the  only  man  present,  and  the 
talk  is  all  women's  talk;  the  committee  meetings, 
where  hours  are  spent  in  discussing  the  most  trivial 
matters  with  the  most  ponderous  gravity — as  though 
the  salvation  of  the  world  depends  upon  the  color 
of  the  pulpit  carpet,  or  who  should  bake  a  cake  for 
the  next  social. 

For  nearly  a  week  now,  Dan  had  found  no  time 
to  touch  the  garden;  he  was  resolved  this  day  to 
make  good  his  neglect.  An  hour  before  Denny  was 
up  the  minister  was  ready  for  his  work.  As  he 
went  to  get  the  garden-tools  from  the  little  lean-to 
woodshed,  Deborah  called  from  the  kitchen,  "  'Tis 
airly  ye  are  this  mornin'  sir.  It's  not  many  that  do 
be  layin'  awake  all  the  night  waitin'  for  the  first 
crack  o'  day,  so  they  can  get  up  to  somebody  else's 
work  fer  thim." 

The  minister  laughingly  dodged  the  warm-hearted 
expressions  of  gratitude  he  saw  coming.  "I've  been 
shirking  lately,"  he  said.  "If  I  don't  do  better  than 
this  the  boss  will  be  firing  me  sure.  How  is  he  ?" 

"Fine  sir,  fine!      He's  not  up  yet.      You'll  hear 

187 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

him  yelling  at  you  as  soon  as  he  sees  what  you're 
at."  * 

"Good,"  ejaculated  the  other.  "I'll  get  ahead  of 
him  this  time.  Perhaps  I  can  get  such  a  start 
before  he  turns  out  that  he'll  let  me  stay  a  while 
longer,  as  it  would  not  be  pleasant  to  get  my  dis 
charge.7' 

Passing  laborers  and  business  men  on  the  way  to 
their  daily  tasks,  smiled  at  the  coatless  figure  in  the 
garden.  Several  called  a  pleasant  greeting.  The 
boy  with  the  morning  papers  from  the  great  city 
checked  his  whistle  as  he  looked  curiously  over  the 
fence,  and  the  Doctor  who  came  out  on  the  porch 
looked  across  the  street  to  the  busy  gardener  and 
grunted  with  satisfaction  as  he  turned  to  his  roses. 

But  Dan's  mind  was  not  occupied  altogether  that 
morning  by  the  work  upon  which  his  hands  were 
engaged.  Neither  was  he  thinking  only  of  his  church 
duties,  or  planning  sermons  for  the  future.  As  he 
bent  to  his  homely  tasks  his  thoughts  strayed  con 
tinually  to  the  young  woman  whom  he  had  last  seen 
beside  the  bed  of  the  sick  girl  in  the  poverty-stricken 
room  in  Old  Town.  The  beautiful  freshness  and 
sweetness  of  the  morning  and  the  perfume  of  the 
dewy  things  seemed  subtly  to  suggest  her.  Thoughts 
of  her  seemed,  somehow,  to  fit  in  with  gardening. 

He  recalled  every  time  he  had  met  her.  The 
times  had  not  been  many,  and  they  were  still 
strangers,  but  every  occasion  had  been  marked  by 
something  that  seemed  to  fix  it  as  unusual,  making 
their  meeting  seem  far  from  commonplace.  He  still 
had  that  feeling  that  she  was  to  play  a  large  part  in 

188 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

his  life  and  he  was  confident  that  they  would  meet 
again.  He  was  wondering  where  and  how  when  he 
looked  up  from  his  work  to  see  her  coming  toward 
him,  dressed  in  a  fresh  uniform  of  blue  and  white. 

The  young  fellow  stood  speechless  with  wonder  as 
she  came  on,  picking  her  way  daintily  among  the 
beds  and  rows,  her  skirts  held  carefully,  her  beauti 
ful  figure  expressing  health  and  strength  and  joyous, 
tingling  life  in  every  womanly  curve  and  line. 

There  was  something  wonderfully  intimate  and 
sweetly  suggestive  in  the  picture  they  made  that 
morning,  these  two — the  strong  young  woman  in  her 
uniform  of  service  going  in  the  glow  of  the  early 
day  to  the  stalwart  coatless  man  in  the  garden,  to 
interrupt  him  in  his  homely  labor. 

"Good  morning,"  she  said  with  a  smile.  "I  have 
been  watching  you  from  the  house  and  decided  that 
you  were  working  altogether  too  industriously,  and 
needed  a  breathing  spell.  Do  you  do  everything  so 
energetically  ?" 

It  is  sadly  true  of  most  men  today  that  the  more 
you  cover  them  up  the  better  they  look.  Our  civiliza 
tion  demands  a  coat,  and  the  rule  seems  to  be — the 
more  civilization,  the  more  coat.  Dan  Matthews 
is  one  of  those  rare  men  who  look  well  in  his  shirt 
sleeves.  His  shoulders  and  body  needed  no  shaped 
and  padded  garments  to  set  them  off.  The  young 
woman's  eyes,  in  spite  of  her  calm  self-possession, 
betrayed  her  admiration  as  he  stood  before  her  so 
tall  and  straight — his  powerful  shoulders,  deep  chest 
and  great  muscled  arms,  so  clearly  revealed. 

But  Dan  did  not  see  the  admiration  in  her  eyes. 

189 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

He  was  so  bewildered  by  the  mere  fact  of  her  pres 
ence  that  he  failed  to  note  this  interesting  detail. 

He  looked  toward  the  house,  then  back  to  the 
young  woman's  face. 

"You  were  watching  me  from  the  house,"  he  re 
peated.  "Keally,  I  did  not  know  that  you — " 

"Were  your  neighbors  ?"  she  finished.  "Yes  we 
are.  Grace  and  I  moved  yesterday.  You  see,"  she 
continued  eager  to  explain,  "it  was  not  good  for  her 
to  remain  in  that  place.  It  was  all  so  suggestive  of 
her  suffering.  I  knew  that  Mrs.  Mulhall  had  a  room 
for  rent,  because  I  had  planned  to  take  it  before  I 
decided  to  go  back  to  Chicago."  She  blushed  as  she 
recalled  the  thoughts  that  had  led  her  to  the  decision, 
but  went  on  resolutely.  "The  poor  child  has  such  a 
fear  of  everybody,  that  I  thought  it  would  help  her 
to  know  that  Mrs.  Mulhall  and  Denny  could  be  good 
to  her,  even  though  it  was  Denny's  father,  that  her 
father — you  know — " 

Dan's  eyes  were  shining.     "Yes  I  know,"  he  said. 

"I  explained  to  Mrs.  Mulhall  and,  like  the  dear 
good  soul  she  is,  she  understood  at  once  and  made 
the  poor  child  feel  better  right  away.  I  thought, 
too,  that  if  Grace  were  living  here  with  Mrs.  Mulhall 
it  might  help  the  people  to  be  kinder  to  her.  Then 
someone  will  give  her  a  chance  to  earn  her  living 
and  she  will  be  all  right.  The  people  will  soon  ad 
differently  when  they  see  how  Mrs.  Mulhall  feels, 
don't  you  think  they  will  ?" 

Dan  could  scarcely  find  words.  She  was  so  en 
tirely  unconscious  of  the  part  she  was  playing — of 
this  beautiful  thing  she  was  doing. 

190 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"And  you  ?"  he  asked,  "You  are  not  going  away  ?" 

"Not  until  she  gets  a  place.  She  will  need  me 
until  she  finds  a  home,  you  know.  And  Dr.  Harry 
assures  me  there  is  plenty  of  work  for  me  in  Corinth. 
So  Grace  and  I  will  keep  house  at  Mrs.  Mulhall's. 
Grace  will  do  the  work  while  I  am  busy.  It  will 
make  her  feel  less  dependent  and,"  she  added  frankly, 
"it  will  not  cost  so  much  that  way.  And  that  brings 
me  to  what  I  came  out  here  to  say."  She  paused. 
"I  wish  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Matthews,  for  your  help — 
for  the  money  you  sent.  The  poor  child  needed  so 
many  things,  and — I  want  to  beg  your  pardon  for — 
for  the  shameful  way  I  treated  you  when  you  called. 
I — I  knew  better,  and  Mrs.  Mulhall  has  been  telling 
me  how  much  you  have  done  for  them.  I — " 

Dan  interrupted,  "Please  don't,  Miss  Farwell;  I 
understand.  You  were  exactly  right.  I  know,  now." 
Then  he  added,  slowly,  "I  want  you  to  know,  though, 
Miss  Farwell,  that  I  had  no  thought  of  being  rude 
when  we  talked  in  the  old  Academy  yard."  She 
was  silent  and  he  went  on,  "I  must  make  you  under 
stand  that  I  am  not  the  ill-mannered  cad  that  I 
seemed.  I — You  know,  this  ministry" — he  empha 
sized  the  word  with  a  smile — "is  so  new  to  me — I 
am  really  so  inexperienced!" 

She  glanced  at  him  quickly. 

He  continued,  "I  had  never  before  heard  such 
thoughts  as  you  expressed,  and  I  was  too  puzzled  to 
realize  how  my  silence  would  appear  to  you  when  you 
knew." 

"Then  this  is  your  first  church  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "and  I  am  beginning  to  realize 

191 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

how  woefully  ignorant  I  am  of  life.  You  know  I 
was  born  and  brought  up  in  the  backwoods.  Until  I 
went  to  college  I  knew  only  our  simple  country  life ; 
at  college  I  knew  only  books  and  students.  Then  I 
came  here." 

As  he  talked  the  young  woman's  face  cleared.  It 
was  something  very  refreshing  to  hear  such  a  man 
declare  his  ignorance  of  life  with  the  frankness  of  a 
boy.  She  held  out  her  hand  impulsively. 

"Let's  forget  it  all,"  she  said.  "It  was  a  horrid 
mistake." 

"And  we  are  to  be  good  friends  ?"  he  asked,  grasp 
ing  her  outstretched  hand. 

Without  replying  the  young  woman  quietly  re 
leased  her  hand  and  drew  back  a  few  paces — she  was 
trembling.  She  fought  for  self-control.  There  was 
something — what  was  it  about  this  man  ?  The  touch 
of  his  hand — Hope  Farwell  was  frightened  by 
emotions  new  and  strange  to  her. 

She  found  a  seat  on  the  big  rock  and  ignoring  his 
question  said,  "So  that's  why  you  are  so  big  and 
strong,  and  know  so  well  how  to  work  in  a  garden. 
I  thought  it  was  strange  for  one  of  your  calling.  I 
see  now  how  natural  it  is  for  you." 

"Yes,"  he  smiled,  "it  is  very  natural — more  so 
than  preaching.  But  tell  me — don't  you  think  we 
should  be  good  friends?  We  are  going  to  be  now, 
are  we  not  ?" 

The  young  woman  answered  with  quiet  dignity, 
"Friendship  Mr.  Matthews  means  a  great  deal  to  me, 
and  to  you  also,  I  am  sure.  Friends  must  have  much 
in  common.  We  have  nothing,  because — because 

192 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAIST  MATTHEWS 

everything  that  I  said  to  you  at  the  Academy,  to  me, 
is  true.  We  do  not  live  in  the  same  world.'7 

"But  it's  for  myself — the  man  and  not  the  minis 
ter — that  I  ask  it,"  he  urged  eagerly. 

She  watched  his  face  closely  as  she  answered, 
"But  you  and  your  ministry  are  one  and  the  same. 
Yourself — your  life  is  your  ministry.  You  are  your 
ministry  and  your  ministry  is  you." 

"But  we  will  find  common  ground,"  he  exclaimed. 
"Look  here,  we  have  already  found  it !  This  garden 
— Denny's  garden!  We'll  put  a  sign  over  the  gate, 
'Xo  professional  ministry  shall  enter  here !' — The 
preacher  lives  up  there."  He  pointed  to  his  window. 
"The  man,  Dan  Matthews,  works  in  the  garden 
here.  To  the  man  in  the  garden  you  may  say  what 
you  like  about  the  parson  up  there.  We  will  differ, 
of  course,  but  we  may  each  gain  something,  as  is 
right  for  friends,  for  we  will  each  grant  to  the  other 
the  privilege  of  being  true  to  self." 

She  hesitated;  then  slipping  from  the  rock  and 
looking  him  full  in  the  face  said,  "I  warn  you  it  will 
not  work.  But  for  friendship's  sake  we  will  try." 

Neither  of  them  realized  the  deep  significance  of 
the  terms,  but  in  the  days  that  followed,  the  people 
of  Corinth  had  much — much  more,  to  talk  about. 
The  Ally  was  well  pleased  and  saw  to  it  that  the 
ladies  of  the  Aid  Society  were  not  long  in  deciding 
that  something  must  be  done. 


193 


CHAPTEK  XXL 

THE  WARNING. 

"From  God's  sunny  hillside  pastures  to  the  gloom  and 
stench  of  the  slaughter  pens." 

|T  happened  two  weeks  to  the  day  after  Dan 
and  Miss  Farwell  met  in  Denny's  garden. 

The  Ally  had  been  busy  to  some  purpose. 
The  Ladies'  Aid,  having  reached  the  point  of  declar 
ing  that  something  must  be  done,  did  something. 
The  Elders  of  Memorial  Church,  in  their  official 
capacity,  called  on  their  pastor. 

Dan  was  in  the  garden  when  the  Elders  came. 
The  Doctor's  wife  declared  that  Dan  spent  most  of 
his  time  in  the  garden  now,  and  that,  when  there,  he 
did  nothing  because  that  nurse  was  always  helping 
him.  Good  Martha  has  the  fatal  gift  of  telling  a  bit 
of  news  so  vividly  that  it  gains  much  in  the  telling. 

Miss  Farwell  was  in  the  garden  that  afternoon 
with  the  minister  and  so  was  Denny,  while  Grace 
Conner  and  Deborah  were  sitting  on  the  front  porch 
of  the  little  cottage  when  the  two  church  fathers 
passed.  Though  neither  of  the  men  turned  their 
heads,  neither  of  them  failed  to  see  the  two  women 
on  the  porch  and  the  three  friends  in  the  garden. 

"For  the  love  of  Heaven,  look  there!"  exclaimed 
Deborah  in  an  excited  whisper.  "They're  turnin'  in 
at  the  minister's  gate,  an'  him  out  there  in  the 

194 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

'taters  in  his  shirt,  a-diggin'  in  the  ground  an' 
a-gassin'  wid  Denny  an'  Miss  Hope.  I  misdoubt 
there's  somethin'  stirrin'  to  take  thim  to  his  door 
the  day.  I  must  run  an'  give  him  the  word." 

But  Dan  had  seen  and  was  already  on  his  way  to 
the  front  gate,  drawing  on  his  coat  as  he  went.  From 
the  other  side  of  the  street  the  Doctor  waved  his 
hand  to  Dan  encouragingly  as  the  young  man  walked 
hastily  down  the  sidewalk  to  overtake  the  church 
officials  at  the  front  door. 

Truly  in  this  denominational  hippodrome,  odd 
yoke-fellows  are  sometimes  set  to  run  together;  the 
efforts  of  the  children  of  light  to  equal  in  wisdom 
the  children  of  darkness  leading  the  church  to  clap 
its  ecclesiastical  harness  upon  anything  that — by 
flattery,  bribes  or  intimidation,  can  be  led,  coaxed  or 
driven  to  pull  at  the  particular  congregational  chariot 
to  which  the  tugs  are  fast!  When  the  people  of 
Corinth  speak  of  Judge  Strong's  religion,  or  his  re 
lation  to  the  Memorial  Church  they  wink — if  the 
Judge  is  not  looking.  When  Elder  Jordan  is  men 
tioned  their  voices  always  have  a  note  of  respect 
and  true  regard.  Elder  Strong  is  always  called  "The 
Judge" ;  Nathaniel  Jordan  was  known  far  and  wide 
as  "Elder  Jordan."  Thus  does  the  community,  as 
communities  have  a  way  of  doing,  touch  the  heart  of 
the  whole  matter. 

Dan  recognized  instinctively  the  difference  in  the 
characters  of  these  two  men,  yet  he  had  found  them 
always  of  one  mind  in  all  matters  of  the  church. 
He  felt  the  subtle  antagonism  of  Judge  Strong, 
though  he  did  not  realize  that  the  reason  for  it  lay 

195 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAN  MATTHEWS 

in  the  cunning  instinct  of  a  creature  that  recognized 
a  natural  enemy  in  all  such  spirits  as  his.  He  felt, 
too,  the  regard  and  growing  appreciation  of  Elder 
Jordan.  Yet  the  two  churchmen  were  in  perfect 
accord  in  their  "brotherly  administration." 

When  the  officials  met  in  Dan's  study  that  day, 
their  characters  were  unmistakable.  That  they 
were  both  in  harness  was  also  clear.  The  minis 
ter's  favorite  chair  creaked  in  dismay  as  the  Judge 
settled  his  heavy  body,  and  twisted  this  way  and 
that  in  an  open  effort  to  inspect  every  corner  of  the 
apartment  with  his  narrow,  suspicious  eyes;  while 
the  older  churchman  sat  by  the  window,  studiously 
observing  something  outside.  Dan  experienced  that 
strange  feeling  of  uneasiness  familiar  to  every  school 
boy  when  called  upon  unexpectedly  for  the  private 
interview  with  the  teacher.  The  Elders  had  never 
visited  him  before.  It  was  too  evident  that  they 
had  come  now  upon  matters  of  painful  importance. 

At  last  Judge  Strong's  wandering  eye  came  to  rest 
upon  Dan's  favorite  fishing-rod,  that  stood  in  a  cor 
ner  behind  a  book-case.  The  young  man's  face  grew 
red  in  spite  of  him.  It  was  impossible  not  to  feel 
guilty  of  something  in  the  presence  of  Judge  Strong. 
Even  Elder  Jordan  started  as  his  brother  official's 
metallic  voice  rang  out,  "I  see  that  you  follow  in 
the  footsteps  of  the  early  disciples  in  one  thing,  at 
least,  Brother  Matthews.  You  go  fishing."  He 
gave  forth  a  shrill,  cold  laugh  that — more  than  any 
thing  else — betrayed  the  real  spirit  he  laughed  to 
hide. 

This  remark  was  characteristic  of  Judge  Strong. 

196 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

On  the  surface  it  was  the  mild  jest  of  a  churchman, 
whose  mind  dwelt  so  habitually  on  the  sacred  Book, 
that  even  in  his  lightest  vein  he  could  not  but  express 
himself  in  terms  and  allusions  of  religious  signifi 
cance.  Beneath  the  surface,  his  words  carried  an 
accusation,  a  condemnation,  a  sneer.  His  manner 
was  the  eager,  expectant,  self-congratulatory  manner 
of  a  dog  that  has  treed  something.  The  Judge's 
method  was  skillfully  chosen  to  give  him  this  ad 
vantage:  it  made  his  meaning  clear  while  it  gave 
no  possible  opening  for  a  reply  to  the  real  idea  his 
words  conveyed,  and  forced  his  listener  to  an  embar 
rassed  silence  of  self-condemnation,  that  secured  the 
Judge  in  his  assumed  position  of  pious  superior 
ity. 

Dan  forced  a  smile.  He  felt  that  the  Judge's 
laugh  demanded  it.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "I  am  scrip 
tural  when  it  comes  to  fishing.  Dr.  Oldham  and  I 
had  a  fine  day  at  Gordon's  Mills." 

"So  I  understand,"  said  the  other  meaningly.  "I 
suppose  you  and  the  old  Doctor  have  some  interesting 
talks  on  religion?" 

It  was  impossible  not  to  feel  the  sneering  accusa 
tion  under  the  words.  It  was  as  impossible  to  answer. 
Again  Dan's  face  flushed  as  he  said,  "No,  we  do  not 
discuss  the  church  very  often." 

"No  ?"  said  the  Judge.  "I  should  think  you  would 
find  him  a  good  subject  to  practice  on.  Perhaps, 
though,  he  practices  on  you,  heh?"  Again  he 
laughed. 

"Ahem,  ahem!"  Elder  Jordan  gave  his  usual 
warning.  Dan  turned  to  the  good  old  man  with  a 

197 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

feeling  of  relief.  At  least  Nathaniel  Jordan's  words 
would  bear  their  face  value.  "Perhaps,  Brother 
Strong,  we  had  better  tell  Brother  Matthews  the 
object  of  our  call." 

The  Judge  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  the  air 
of  one  about  to  be  pleasantly  entertained.  He  waved 
his  hand  with  a  gesture  that  said  as  plainly  as  words, 
"All  right,  Nathaniel,  go  ahead.  I'm  here  if  you 
need  me,  so  don't  be  uneasy!  If  you  find  yourself 
unequal  to  the  task,  depend  upon  me  to  help  you 
out." 

The  minister  waited  with  an  expectant  air. 

"Ahem,  ahem!  You  must  not  think,  Brother 
Matthews,  that  there  is  anything  really  wrong  be 
cause  we  called.  But  we,  ahem — we  thought  best  to 
give  you  a  brotherly  warning.  I'm  sure  you  will 
take  it  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  meant." 

The  Judge  stirred  uneasily  in  his  chair,  bending 
upon  Dan  such  a  look  as — had  he  been  a  real  judge — 
he  might  have  cast  upon  a  Convicted  criminal.  Dan 
already  felt  guilty.  He  signified  his  assent  to  the 
Elder's  statement  and  Nathaniel  proceeded: 

"You  are  a  young  man,  Brother  Matthews;  I 
may  say  a  very  talented  young  man,  and  we  are 
jealous  for  your  success  in  this  community  and, 
ahem — for  the  standing  of  Memorial  Church.  Some 
of  our  ladies  feel — I  may  say  that  we  feel  that  you 
have  been  a  little,  ah — careless  about  some  things  of 
late.  Elder  Strong  and  I  know  from  past  experi 
ence  that  a  preacher — a  young  unmarried  preacher 
cannot  be  too  careful.  Not  that  we  have  the  least 
idea  that  you  mean  any  harm,  you  know — not  the 

198 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

least  in  the  world.  But  people  will  talk  and — ahem, 
ahem!" 

Dan's  face  was  a  study.  He  was  so  clearly  mys 
tified  by  the  Elder's  remarks  that  the  good  man 
found  his  duty  even  more  embarrassing  than  he  had 
anticipated. 

Then  Judge  Strong  threw  a  flood  of  light  upon 
the  situation  in  a  characteristic  manner.  "That 
young  woman,  Grace  Conner,  has  a  mighty  bad 
name  in  this  town ;  and  the  other  one,  her  friend  the 
nurse,  is  a  stranger.  She  was  in  my  house  for  a 
month  and — well,  some  things  about  her  look  mighty 
queer  to  me.  She  hasn't  been  inside  a  church  since 
she  came  to  Corinth.  I  would  be  the  last  man  in 
the  world  to  cast  a  suspicion  on  anyone  but — "  he 
finished  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  and  an  expression 
of  pious  doubt  on  his  crafty  face  that  said  he  could, 
if  he  wished,  tell  many  dark  secrets  of  Miss  Farwell's 
life. 

Dan  was  on  his  feet  instantly,  his  face  flaming  and 
his  eyes  gleaming  with  indignation.  "I — "  then  he 
checked  himself,  confused,  as — in  a  flash — he  remem 
bered  who  these  men  were  and  his  relation  to  them  in 
the  church.  "I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  finished  slowly, 
and  dropped  back  into  his  chair,  biting  his  lips  and 
clenching  his  big  hands  in  an  effort  at  self-control. 

Elder  Jordan  broke  in  nervously.  "Ahem,  ahem  I 
You  understand,  Brother  Matthews,  that  the  sisters 
— that  we  do  not  think  that  you  mean  any  harm,  but 
your  standing  in  the  community,  you  know,  is  such 
that  we  must  shun  every  appearance  of  evil.  We, 
ahem — we  felt  it  our  duty  to  call." 

199 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Big  Dan,  who  had  never  met  that  spirit,  the  Ally, 
knew  not  how  to  answer  his  masters  in  the  church. 
He  tried  to  feel  that  their  mission  to  him  was  of 
grave  importance.  He  was  tempted  to  laugh ;  their 
ponderous  dignity  seemed  so  ridiculous. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  he  at  last  managed  to  say, 
gravely,  "I  think  it  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to 
attempt  any  explanation."  He  was  still  fighting  for 
self-control  and  chose  his  words  carefully.  "I  will 
consider  this  matter."  Then  he  turned  the  conver 
sation  skillfully  into  other  channels. 

When  the  overseers  of  the  church  were  gone  the 
young  pastor  walked  the  floor  of  the  room  trying  to 
grasp  the  true  significance  of  the  situation.  Gradu 
ally  the  real  meaning  of  the  Elders'  visit  grew  upon 
him.  Because  his  own  life  was  so  big,  so  hroad, 
because  his  ideals  and  ambitions  were  so  high,  so 
true  to  the  spirit  of  the  Christ  whose  service  he 
thought  he  had  entered,  he  could  not  believe  his 
senses. 

He  might  have  found  some  shadow  of  reason,  per 
haps,  for  their  fears  regarding  his  friendship  for  the 
girl  with  the  bad  reputation,  had  the  circumstances 
been  other  than  they  were,  and  had  he  not  known 
who  it  was  gave  Grace  Conner  her  bad  name.  But 
that  his  friendship  for  Miss  Farwell,  whose  beautiful 
ministry  was  such  an  example  of  the  spirit  of  the 
Christian  religion;  and  that  her  care  for  the  poor 
girl  should  be  so  quickly  construed  into  something 
evil — his  mind  positively  refused  to  entertain  the 
thought.  He  felt  that  the  visit  of  his  church  fathers 


200 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

was  unreal.  He  was  as  one  dazed  by  an  unpleasant 
dream. 

To  come  from  the  pure,  wholesome  atmosphere  of 
his  home  and  the  inspiring  study  of  the  history  of 
the  Christian  religion,  to  such  a  twisted,  distorted, 
hideous  corruption  of  the  church  policy  and  spirit, 
was,  to  Dan,  like  coming  from  God's  sunny  hillside 
pastures  to  the  gloom  and  stench  of  the  slaughter 
pens.  He  was  stunned  by  the  littleness,  the  mean 
ness  that  had  prompted  the  ''kindly  warning"  of 
these  leaders  of  the  church. 

Slowly  he  began  to  see  what  that  spirit  might  mean 
to  him. 

No  man  of  ordinary  intelligence  could  long  be  in 
Memorial  Church,  without  learning  that  it  was  ruled 
by  a  ring,  as  truly  as  any  body  politic  was  ever  so 
ruled.  Dan  Matthews  understood  too  clearly  that 
his  position  in  Memorial  Church  depended  upon  the 
"bosses"  then  in  control.  And  he  saw  farther — saw, 
indeed,  that  his  final  success  or  failure  in  his  chosen 
calling  depended  upon  the  standing  that  should  be 
given  him  by  this,  his  first  charge;  depended  at  the 
last  upon  these  two  men  who  had  shown  themselves, 
each  in  his  own  way,  so  easily  influenced  by  the 
low,  vicious  tales  of  a  few  idle-minded  town  gos 
sips. 

As  one  in  the  dark — stepping  without  warning 
into  a  boggy  hole — Dan  groped  for  firmer  ground. 

As  one  standing  alone  in  a  wide  plain  sees  on  the 
distant  horizon  the  threat  of  a  gathering  storm,  and 
— watching,  shudders  at  the  shadow  of  a  passing 


201 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

cloud,  Dan  stood — a  feeling  of  loneliness  and  dread 
heavy  upon  him. 

He  longed  for  companionship,  for  someone  to 
whom  he  could  speak  his  heart.  But  to  whom  in 
Corinth  could  he  go  ?  These  men  who  had  just 
"advised  him"  were,  theoretically,  his  intimate 
counselors;  to  them  he  was  supposed,  and  had  ex 
pected,  to  look — in  his  inexperience,  for  advice  and 
help.  These  men,  old  in  the  service  of  the  church — 
how  would  they  answer  his  troubled  thoughts  ?  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smiled  grimly.  The 
Doctor  ?  He  smiled  again. 

Dan  little  dreamed  how  much  that  keen  old  fisher 
man  already  knew,  from  a  skillful  baiting  of  Martha, 
about  the  visit  of  the  Elders  that  afternoon ;  while 
his  knowledge  of  Dan's  character  from  childhood, 
enabled  the  physician  to  guess  more  than  a  little  of 
the  thoughts  that  occupied  the  young  man  pacing  the 
floor  of  his  room.  But  the  Doctor  would  not  do  for 
the  young  man  that  day. 

Dan  went  to  the  window  overlooking  the  garden. 
The  nurse  was  still  there,  helping  crippled  Denny 
with  his  work.  The  minister's  hoe  was  leaning 
against  the  big  rock,  as  he  had  left  it  when  he  had 
caught  up  his  coat.  Should  he  go  down  ?  What 
would  she  say  if  he  were  to  tell  her  of  the  Elders' 
mission  ? 

Something  caused  Miss  Farwell  to  look  up  just 
then  and  she  saw  him.  She  beckoned  to  him  play 
fully,  guardedly,  like  a  schoolgirl.  Smiling,  he 
shook  his  head.  He  could  not  go. 

More  than  ever,  then,  he  felt  very  much  alone. 

202 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AS  DR.  HARRY  SEES  IT. 

"Thus  Dr.  Harry  presented  another  side  of  the  problem 
to  his  bewildered  friend — a  phase  of  the  question  commonly 
ignored  by  every  fiery  reformer,  whose  particular  reformation 
is  the  one — the  only  way." 

|  HE  friendship  between  Dan  and  Dr.  Abbott 
had  grown  rapidly,  as  was  natural,  for  the 
two  men  had  much  in  common.  In  a  town 
as  small  as  Corinth,  there  are  many  opportunities 
for  even  the  busiest  men  to  meet,  and  scarcely  a 
day  passed  that  the  doctor  and  the  preacher  did  not 
exchange  greetings,  at  least.  As  often  as  their  duties 
permitted  they  were  together ;  sometimes  at  the  office 
or  in  Dan's  rooms ;  again,  of  an  evening,  at  Harry's 
home ;  or  driving  miles  across  country  behind  the 
bay  mare  or  big  Jim — the  physician  to  see  a  patient, 
and  the  minister  to  be  the  "hitchin'  post." 

Harry  was  just  turning  from  the  telephone  that 
evening  when  Dan  entered  the  house. 

"Hello,  parson!"  he  cried  heartily.  "I  was  just 
this  minute  trying  to  get  you.  I  couldn't  think  of 
anything  to  do  to  anybody  else,  so  I  thought  I'd  have 
a  try  at  you.  That  wasn't  such  a  bad  guess  either," 
he  added,  when  he  had  a  good  look  at  his  friend's 
face.  "You  evidently  need  to  have  something  fixed. 
What  is  it,  liver  ?"  He  led  the  way  into  the  library. 

203 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Not  mine,"  said  Dan  shortly.  "I  don't  believe  I 
have  one." 

He  pushed  an  arm  chair  to  face  the  doctor's  favor 
ite  seat  by  the  table. 

Harry  chuckled  as  he  reached  for  his  pipe  and 
tobacco.  "You  don't  need  to  have  one  yourself  in 
order  to  suffer  from  liver  troubles.  Speaking  pro 
fessionally,  my  opinion  is  that  you  preachers,  as  a 
class,  are  more  likely  to  suffer  from  other  people's 
livers  than  from  your  own,  though  it  is  also  true 
that  the  average  parson  has  more  of  his  own  than  he 
knows  what  to  do  with." 

"And  what  do  you  doctors  prescribe  when  it  is  the 
other  fellow's  ?"  asked  Dan. 

The  other  struck  a  match.  "Oh,  there's  a  dif 
ference  of  opinion  in  the  profession.  The  old  Doctor, 
for  instance,  pins  his  faith  to  a  split  bamboo  with  a 
book  of  flies  or  a  can  of  bait." 

"And  you  ?"    Dan  was  smiling  now. 

The  answer  came  through  a  cloud  of  smoke.  "Just 
a  pipe  and  a  book." 

Dan's  smile  vanished.  "I  fear  your  treatment 
would  not  agree  with  my  constitution,"  he  said 
grimly.  "My  system  does  not  permit  me  to  use  the 
remedy  you  prescribe." 

"Oh,  I  see.  You  mean  the  pipe."  A  puff  of 
smoke  punctuated  the  remark.  The  physician  was 
watching  his  friend's  face  now,  and  the  fun  was 
gone  from  his  voice  as  he  said  gravely,  "Pardon  me, 
Brother  Matthews ;  I  meant  no  slur  upon  your  per 
sonal  conviction  touching — " 

"Brother  Matthews!"   interrupted  Dan,   sharply, 

204 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAST  MATTHEWS 

"I  thought  we  had  agreed  to  drop  all  that.  It's  bad 
enough  to  be  dodged  and  shunned  by  every  man  in 
town  without  your  rubbing  it  in.  As  for  my  per 
sonal  convictions,  they  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
case.  In  fact,  my  system  does  not  permit  me  to  have 
personal  convictions." 

Dr.  Harry's  eyes  twinkled.  "This  system  of  yours 
seems  to  be  in  a  bad  way,  Dan.  What's  wrong 
with  it?" 

"Wrong  with  it !  Wrong  with  my  system  ?  Man 
alive,  don't  you  know  this  is  heresy !  How  can  there 
be  anything  wrong  with  my  system?  Doesn't  it 
relieve  me  of  any  responsibility  in  the  matter  of 
right  and  wrong  ?  Doesn't  it  take  from  me  all  such 
burdens  as  personal  convictions.  Doesn't  it  fix  my 
standard  of  goodness,  and  then  doesn't  it  make  good 
ness  my  profession  ?  You,  poor  drudge ;  you  and 
the  rest  of  the  merely  humans  must  be  good  as  a 
matter  of  sentiment !  Thanks  to  my  system  my  good 
ness  is  a  matter  of  business;  I  am  paid  for  being 
good.  My  system  says  that  your  pipe  and,  perhaps 
your  book,  are  bad — sinful.  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  I  only  obey  and  draw  my  salary." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Harry,  soothingly,  "there  is  the 
old  Doctor's  remedy.  It's  probably  better  on  the 
whole." 

"I  tried  that  the  other  day,"  Dan  growled. 

"Worked,  didn't  it  ?" 

Dan  grinned  in  spite  of  himself.  "At  first  the 
effects  seemed  to  be  very  beneficial,  but  later  I  found 
that  it  was,  er —  somewhat  irritating,  and  that  it 
slightly  aggravated  the  complaint." 

205 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  doctor  was  smiling  now.  "Suppose  you  try 
a  little  physical  exercise  occasionally — working  in 
the  garden  or — " 

Dan  threw  up  his  hands  with  a  tragic  gesture. 
"Suicide!"  he  almost  shouted. 

Then  they  both  lay  back  in  their  chairs  and  fairly 
howled  with  laughter. 

"Whew!      That  does  a  fellow  good!"  gasped  Dan. 

"I  guess  we  have  arrived,"  said  Harry,  with  a 
final  chuckle.  "Thought  we  were  way  off  the  track 
once  or  twice ;  but  I  have  located  your  liver  trouble, 
all  right.  When  did  they  call  ?" 

"This  afternoon.     Did  you  know  ?" 

The  doctor  nodded.  "I  have  been  expecting  it  for 
several  days.  I  guess  you  were  about  the  only  per 
son  in  Corinth  who  wasn't." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 

"If  I  can  avoid  it,  I  never  tell  a  patient  of  a 
coming  operation  until  it's  time  to  operate;  then 
it's  all  over  before  they  can  get  nervous." 

Dan  shuddered — the  laugh  was  all  out  of  him 
now.  "I  have  certainly  been  on  the  table  this  after 
noon,"  he  said.  "I  need  to  talk  it  out  with  some 
one.  That's  what  I  came  to  you  for." 

"Perhaps  you  had  better  tell  me  the  particulars," 
said  Harry,  quietly. 

So  Dan  told  him,  and  when  he  had  finished  they 
had  both  grown  very  serious. 

"I  was  afraid  of  this,  Dan,"  said  Harry.  "You'll 
need  to  be  very  careful — very  careful." 

The  other  started  to  speak,  but  the  doctor  checked 
him. 

206 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"I  know.  I  know  how  you  feel.  What  you  say 
about  the  system  and  all  that  is  all  too  true,  and  you 
haven't  seen  the  worst  of  it  yet,  by  a  good  deal." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Miss  Farwell  will 
be  made  to  suffer  for  her  interest  in  that  poor  girl  ?" 
demanded  Dan  warmly. 

"If  Miss  Farwell  continues  to  live  with  Grace 
Conner  at  Mrs.  Mulhall's,  there  is  not  a  respectable 
home  in  this  town  that  will  receive  her/'  answered 
the  doctor  bluntly. 

"My  God!  are  the  people  blind?  Can't  the 
church  see  what  a  beautiful — what  a  Christ-like 
thing  she  is  doing  ?" 

"You  know  Grace  Conner's  history,"  replied 
Harry,  coolly.  "What  reason  is  there  to  think  it  will 
be  different  in  Miss  Farwell's  case,  so  far  as  the  at 
titude  of  the  community  goes  ?" 

Dan  could  not  keep  his  seat.  In  his  agitation  he 
walked  the  floor.  Suddenly  turning  on  the  other 
he  demanded,  "Then  I  am  to  understand  that  my 
friendship  with  Miss  Farwell  will  mean  for  me — " 

Dr.  Harry  was  silent.  Indeed,  how  could  he 
suggest,  ever  so  indirectly,  that  the  friendship  be 
tween  Dan  and  Miss  Farwell  should  be  discontinued. 
If  the  young  woman  had  been  anyone  else,  or  if  Dr. 
Harry  himself  had  not —  But  why  attempt  ex 
planation  ? 

The  minister  continued  tramping  up  and  down 
the  room,  stopping  now  and  then  to  face  the  doctor, 
who  sat  still  in  his  chair  by  the  library  table,  quietly 
smoking. 

"This  is  horrible,  Harry!      I — I  can't  believe  it! 

207 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

So  far  as  my  friendship  for  Miss  Farwell  goes,  that 
is  only  an  incident.  It  does  not  matter  in  itself." 

Dr.  Harry  puffed  vigorously.  He  thought  to  him 
self  that  this  might  be  true,  but  something  in  Dan's 
face  and  voice  when  he  spoke — something  of  which 
he  himself  was  unconscious — made  Harry  glad  that 
he  had  not  answered. 

"It  is  the  spirit  of  it  all  that  matters,"  the  min 
ister  continued,  pausing  again.  "I  never  dreamed 
that  such  a  thing  could  be.  That  Grace  Conner's 
life  should  be  ruined  by  the  wicked  carelessness  of 
these  people  seems  bad  enough.  But  that  they  should 
take  the  same  attitude  toward  Miss  Farwell,  simply 
because  she  is  seeking  to  do  that  Christian  thing  that 
the  church  itself  will  not  do,  is — is  monstrous !"  He 
turned  impatiently  to  resume  his  restless  movement. 
Then,  when  his  friend  did  not  speak  he  continued 
slowly,  as  though  the  words  were  forced  from  him 
against  his  will:  "And  to  think  that  they  could  be 
so  unmoved  by  the  suffering  of  that  poor  girl,  their 
own  victim,  and  so  untouched  by  the  example  of  Miss 
Farwell ;  and  then  that  they  should  give  such  grave 
consideration  and  be  so  influenced  by  absolutely 
groundless  and  vicious  idle  gossip!  And  that  the 
church  of  Christ,  that  Christianity  itself,  should  be 
so  wholly  in  the  hands  of  people  so  unspeakably 
blind,  so — contemptibly  mean  and  small  in  their  con 
ceptions  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ !" 

He  confronted  the  doctor  again  and  his  face 
flushed.  "Why,  Doctor,  my  whole  career  as  a  Chris 
tian  minister  depends  upon  the  mere  whim  of  these 


208 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

people,  who  are  moved  by  such  a  spirit  as  this.  No 
matter  what  motives  may  prompt  my  course  they 
have  the  power  to  prevent  me  from  doing  my  work. 
This  is  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  influential 
churches  in  the  brotherhood.  They  can  give  me 
such  a  name  that  my  life-work  will  be  ruined.  What 
can  I  do?" 

"You  must  be  very  careful,  Dan,"  said  Dr.  Harry, 
slowly. 

"Careful !  And  that  means,  I  suppose,  that  I 
must  bow  to  the  people  of  this  church — ruled  as  they 
are  by  such  a  spirit — as  to  my  lords  and  masters; 
that  I  shall  have  no  other  God  but  this  congregation ; 
that  I  shall  deny  my  own  conscience  for  theirs ;  that 
I  shall  go  about  the  trivial,  nonsensical  things  they 
call  my  pastoral  duties,  in  fear  and  trembling;  that 
my  ministry  is  to  cringe  when  they  speak,  and  do 
their  will  regardless  of  what  I  feel  to  be  the  will  of 
Christ!  Faugh!"  Big  Dan  drew  himself  erect. 
"If  this  is  what  the  call  to  the  ministry  means,  I  am 
beginning  to  understand  some  things  that  have  al 
ways  puzzled  me  greatly." 

He  dropped  wearily  into  his  chair. 

"Tell  me,  Doctor,"  he  demanded,  "do  the  people 
generally,  see  these  things  ?" 

"It  seems  to  me  that  everyone  who  thinks  must  see 
them,"  replied  the  other. 

"Then  why  did  no  one  tell  me  ?  Why  did  not  the 
old  Doctor  explain  the  real  condition  of  the  church  ?" 

"As  a  rule  it  is  not  a  safe  thing  to  attempt  to  tell 
a  minister  these  things.  Would  you  have  listened, 


209 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Dan,  if  he  had  tried  to  tell  you  ?  Or,  because  he  is 
not  a  church  man,  would  you  not  have  misunderstood 
his  motives  ?  The  Doctor  loves  you,  Dan." 

"But  you  are  a  church  man,  a  member  of  the 
official  board  of  my  congregation.  If  men  like  you 
know  these  things  why  are  you  in  the  church  at  all  ?" 

Silently  Dr.  Harry  re-filled  and  lighted  his  pipe. 
It  was  as  if  he  deliberated  over  his  reply.  The 
membership  of  every  church  may  be  divided  into 
three  distinct  classes:  those  who  are  the  church; 
those  who  belong  to  the  church;  and  those  who  are 
members,  but  who  neither  are,  nor  belong  to.  Dr. 
Harry  was  a  member. 

"Dan,"  said  the  physician,  "I  suppose  it  is  very 
difficult  for  such  men  as  you  to  understand  the  re 
ligious  dependence  of  people  like  myself.  We  see 
the  church's  lack  of  appreciation  of  true  worth  of 
character,  we  know  the  vulgar,  petty  scheming  and 
wire-pulling  for  place,  the  senseless  craving  for 
notoriety,  and  the  prostitution  of  the  spirit  of 
Christ's  teaching  to  denominational  ends.  We  un 
derstand  how  ihe  ministers  are  at  the  mercy  of  the 
lowest  rninds  and  the  meanest  spirits  in  their  con 
gregation;  but,  Dan,  because  we  love  the  cause  we 
do  not  talk  of  these  things  even  to  each  other,  for  fear 
of  being  misunderstood.  It  is  useless  to  talk  of  them 
to  our  ministers,  for  they  dare  not  listen.  Why 
man,  I  never  in  my  life  felt  that  I  could  talk  to  my 
pastor  as  I  am  talking  to  you!"  He  smiled.  "I 
guess  that  I  was  afraid  that  they  would  tell  Judge 
Strong,  and  that  the  church  would  put  me  out.  And, 
with  most  of  thema  that — probably,  is  exactly  what 

210 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

would  have  happened.  I  am  not  sure  but  you  will 
consider  me  unsafe,  and  avoid  me  in  the  future,"  he 
added  whimsically. 

Dan  smiled  at  his  words,  though  they  revealed  so 
much  to  him. 

Dr.  Harry  went  on,  "We  remain  in  the  church, 
and  give  it  our  support,  I  suppose,  because  we  are 
dependent  upon  it  for  our  religious  life;  because 
we  know  no  religious  life  outside  of  it.  It  is  the 
only  institution  that  professes  to  be  distinctively 
Christian,  and  we  love  its  teaching  in  spite  of  its 
practice.  We  are  always  hoping  that  some  one  will 
show  us  a  way  out.  And  some  one  will!"  He 
spoke  passionately  now,  with  deep  conviction :  "Some 
one  must!  This  Godless  mockery  cannot  continue. 
I  have  too  much  faith  in  the  goodness  of  men  to 
believe  otherwise.  I  don't  know  how  the  change 
will  come.  But  it  will  come  and  it  will  come  from 
men  in  the  church — men  like  you,  Dan,  who  come 
to  the  ministry  with  the  highest  ideals.  But  you 
must  be  careful,  mighty  careful,  not  for  your  own 
sake,  alone,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  cause  we  both  love. 
Some  operations  are  exceedingly  dangerous  to  the 
life  of  the  patient;  some  medicines  must  be  admin 
istered  with  care  lest  they  kill  instead  of  cure.  Men 
like  me,  from  long  experience  with  professional  re 
formers,  look  with  distrust  upon  the  preacher  who 
talks  about  his  church,  even  while  we  know  that  there 
is  a  great  need." 

Thus  Dr.  Harry  presented  another  side  of  the 
problem  to  his  bewildered  friend — a  phase  of  the 
question  commonly  ignored  by  every  fiery  reformer,, 

211 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

whose  particular  reformation  is  the  one — the  only 
way. 

Later  Dan  asked,  "Do  you  think  Miss  Farwell 
understands  what  her  course  means,  Doctor  ?" 

Harry  shook  his  head.  "I  wish  I  knew  how  much 
she  understands.  Already  two  or  three  people  who 
expected  to  call  her  have  told  me  they  would  find 
someone  else.  I  have  several  cases  now  that  need  a 
trained  nurse,  but  they  won't  have  her  because  of 
what  they  have  heard.  And  yet  I  promised  her, 
you  know,  that  she  should  have  plenty  of  work." 

"Have  you  told  her  this  ?"  asked  Dan. 

Again  Harry  shook  his  head.    "What's  the  good  ?" 

"But  she  ought  to  be  told,"  exclaimed  the  other. 

"I  know  that,  Dan.  But  I  can't  do  it,  after  urg^ 
ing  her,  as  I  did,  to  stay  in  Corinth.  You  are  the 
one  to  tell  her,  I  am  sure." 

Then,  as  if  to  avoid  any  further  discussion  of  the 
matter  he  rose.  "You  certainly  have  had  enough  of 
this  for  today,  old  man.  I  think  I'll  prescribe  a 
little  music,  now,  and,  if  you  don't  mind,  I'll  take 
some  of  my  own  prescription.  I  feel  the  need." 

He  went  to  his  piano,  and  for  an  hour  Dan  was 
under  the  spell. 

When  the  last  sweet  harmony  had  slipped  softly 
away  into  the  night,  the  musician  sat  still,  his  head 
bowed.  Dan  went  quietly  to  his  side,  and  laid  a 
hand  on  the  doctor's  shoulder. 

"Amen !"  he  said,  reverently.  "It  is  a  wonderful, 
beautiful  ministry,  Doctor.  You  have  given  me 
faith  and  hope  and  peace.  Thank  you !" 

When  his  friend  had  gone,  Dr.  Harry  went  back  to 

212 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

the  piano.  Softly,  smoothly  his  fingers  moved  over 
the  ivory  keys.  He  had  played  for  Dan — he  played 
now  for  himself.  Into  the  music  he  put  all  that  he 
dared  not  put  into  words:  all  the  longing,  all  the 
pain,  all  the  surrender,  all  the  sacrifice,  were  there. 
For  again,  when  the  minister  had  spoken  of  Miss 
Farwell  the  doctor  had  seen  in  his  friend's  face  and 
heard  in  his  voice  that  which  Dan  himself  did  not 
yet  recognize.  And  Harry  had  spoken  the  convic 
tion  of  his  heart  when  he  said,  "You  are  the  one  to 
tell  her,  I  am  sure.77 

Of  this  man,  too,  it  might  be  written,  "He  saved 
others;    himself  he  could  not  save.77 


213 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


A  PARABLE. 


u  < 


'And  do  you  think,  Grace,  that  anything  in  all  this 
beautiful  world  is  of  greater  importance — of  more  value  to 
the  world — than  a  human  life,  with  all  its  marvelous  power 
to  think  and  feel  and  love  and  hate  and  so  leave  its  mark  on 
all  life,  for  all  time?'" 

IISSFARWELL!" 

The  nurse  looked  up  from  her  sewing  in 
her  hands. 

"What  is  it,  Grace  ?" 

"I — I  think  I  will  try  to  find  a  place  today.  Mrs. 
Mulhall  told  me  last  night  that  she  had  heard  of  two 
women  who  want  help.  It  may  be  that  one  of  them 
will  take  me.  I  think  I  ought  to  try." 

This  was  the  third  time  within  a  few  days  that 
the  girl  had  expressed  thoughts  similar  to  these, 
Under  the  personal  care  of  Miss  Farwell  she  had 
rapidly  recovered  from  her  terrible  experience,  both 
physically  and  mentally,  but  the  nurse  felt  that  she 
was  not  yet  strong  enough  to  meet  a  possible  rebuff 
from  the  community  that,  before,  had  shown  itself 
so  reluctant  to  treat  her  with  any  degree  whatever  of 
consideration  or  kindness.  The  girl's  spirit  had  been 
cruelly  hurt.  She  was  possessed  of  an  unhealthy, 
morbid  fear  of  the  world  that  would  cripple  her  for 
life  if  it  could  not  somehow  be  overcome. 

214 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAST  MATTHEWS 

Miss  Farwell  felt  that  Grace  Conner's  only  chance 
lay  in  winning  a  place  for  herself  in  the  community 
where  she  had  suffered  such  ill-treatment.  But  be 
fore  she  faced  the  people  again  she  must  be  prepared. 
The  sensitive,  wounded  spirit  must  be  strengthened, 
for  it  could  not  bear  many  more  blows.  How  to  do 
this  was  the  problem. 

Hope  dropped  her  sewing  in  her  lap.  "Come 
over  here  by  the  window,  dear,  and  let's  talk 
about  it." 

The  young  woman  seated  herself  on  a  stool  at  the 
feet  of  her  companion  who,  in  actual  years,  was  but 
little  her  senior,  but  who,  in  so  many  ways,  was  to 
her  an  elder  sister. 

"Why  are  you  so  anxious  to  leave  me,  Grace  ?n 
asked  the  nurse  with  a  smile. 

The  girl's  eyes — eyes  that  would  never  now  be 
wholly  free  from  that  shadow  of  fear  and  pain — filled 
with  tears.  She  put  out  a  hand  impulsively,  touch 
ing  Miss  Farwell's  knee.  "Oh,  don't  say  that!"  she 
exclaimed,  with  a  little  catch  in  her  voice.  "You 
know  it  isn't  that." 

The  eyes  of  the  stronger  woman  looked  reassur 
ingly  down  at  her.  "Well,  what  is  it  then  ?"  The 
low  tone  was  insistent.  The  nurse  felt  that  it  would 
be  better  for  the  patient  to  express  that  which  was 
in  her  own  mind. 

The  girl's  face  was  down-cast  and  she  picked 
nervously  at  the  fold  of  her  friend's  skirt.  "It's 
nothing,  Miss  Farwell;  only  I  feel  that  I — I  ought 
not  to  be  a  burden  upon  you  a  moment  longer  than 
I  can  help." 

215 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"I  thought  that  was  it,"  returned  the  other.  Her 
firm,  white  hand  slipped  under  the  trembling  chin, 
and  the  girl's  face  was  gently  lifted  until  Grace  was 
forced  to  look  straight  into  those  deep  gray  eyes. 
"Tell  me,  dear,  why  do  you  feel  that  you  are  a  burden 
upon  me?" 

Silence  for  a  moment;  then — and  there  was  a 
wondering  gladness  in  the  girl's  voice — "I — I  don't 
know." 

The  nurse  smiled,  but  there  was  a  grave  note  in 
her  voice  as  she  said,  still  holding  the  girl's  face 
toward  her  own,  "I'll  tell  you  why.  It  is  because  you 
have  been  hurt  so  deeply.  This  feeling  is  one  of  the 
scars  of  your  experience,  dear.  All  your  life  you 
will  need  to  fight  that  feeling — the  feeling  that  you 
are  not  wanted.  And  you  must  fight  it — fight  it 
with  all  your  might.  You  will  never  overcome  it 
entirely,  for  the  scar  of  your  hurt  is  there  to  stay. 
You  will  always  suffer  at  times  from  the  old  fear; 
but,  if  you  will,  you  can  conquer  it  so  far  that  it  will 
not  spoil  your  life.  You  must — for  your  own  sake, 
and  for  my  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  wounded 
lives  you  are  going  to  help  heal — help  all  the  better 
because  of  your  own  hurt.  Do  you  understand, 
dear?" 

The  other  nodded ;   she  could  not  speak. 

"You  are  going  out  into  the  world  to  find  a  place 
for  yourself,  of  course,  for  that  is  right,"  Hope  con 
tinued.  "And  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  find  a  place 
here  in  Corinth,  if  possible.  But  it  is  not  going  to 
be  easy,  Grace.  It's  going  to  be  hard,  very  hard, 


216 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  you  will  need  to  know  that,  no  matter  what 
other  people  make  you  feel,  you  have  a  place  in  my 
life,  a  place  where  you  belong.  Let  me  try,  if  I  can, 
to  tell  you  so  that  you  will  never,  never  forget." 

For  a  little  the  nurse  looked  away  out  of  the  win 
dow,  up  into  the  leafy  depths  of  the  big  trees,  and 
into  the  blue  sky  beyond,  while  the  girl  watched  her 
with  a  look  that  was  pathetic  in  its  wondering,  hun 
gering  earnestness.  When  Miss  Farwell  spoke  again 
she  chose  her  words  carefully. 

"Once  upon  a  time  a  woman,  walking  in  the  moun 
tains,  discovered  by  chance  a  wonderful  mine,  of  such 
vast  wealth  that  there  was  nothing  in  all  the  world 
like  it  for  richness.  And  the  mine  belonged  to  the 
woman  because  she  found  it.  But  the  wealth  of  the 
mine  went  out  into  the  world  for  all  men  to  use,  and 
thus,  in  the  largest  sense,  the  riches  the  woman  found 
belonged  to  all  mankind.  But  still,  because  she  had 
found  it,  the  woman  always  felt  that  it  was  hers. 
And  so,  through  her  discovery  of  this  vast  wealth,  and 
the  great  happiness  it  brought  to  the  world,  the  mine 
became  to  the  woman  the  dearest  of  all  her  posses 
sions. 

"Tell  me,  Grace,  do  you  think  that  anyone  could 
ever  replace  the  mountains,  the  ocean  or  the  stars, 
or  any  of  these  wonderful,  wonderful  things  in  the 
great  universe,  if  they  were  to  be  destroyed  ?" 

"No."     The  answer  came  in  a  puzzled  tone. 

"And  do  you  think,  Grace,  that  anything  in  all 
this  beautiful  world  is  of  greater  importance — of 
more  value  to  the  world — than  a  human  life,  with  all 


217 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

its  marvelous  power  to  think  and  feel  and  love  and 
hate  and  so  leave  its  mark  on  all  life,  for  all  time  ?" 

"No,  Miss  Farwell." 

"Then  don't  you  see  how  impossible  it  is  that  any 
one  should  ever  take  your  place  ?  Don't  you  see 
that  you  have  a  place  in  the  world — a  place  that  is 
yours  because  God  put  you  in  it,  just  as  truly  as  he 
put  the  mountains,  the  seas,  the  stars  in  their  places  ? 
And  don't  you  see  why  you  must  feel  that  you  have 
a  right  to  your  own  life-place,  and  that  you  must 
hold  it,  no  matter  what  others  say,  or  do,  or  think, 
because  of  its  great  value  to  God  and  to  the  world? 
And  Grace — look  at  me,  child!  do  you  think  that 
anything  in  all  the  universe  is  dearer  to  the  Father 
than  a  human  life,  that  is  so  wonderful  and  so  eternal 
in  its  power  ?  So  life  should  be  the  dearest  thing  in 
all  the  world  to  us.  Not  just  the  life  of  each  to  him 
self,  but  every  life — any  life,  the  dearest  thing  to 
all.  I  think  this  was  true  of  Christ;  I  think  it 
should  be  true  of  Christians.  I  believe  this  with  all 
my  heart." 

There  was  silence  for  a  little  while;  then  Hope 
said  again :  "Now  tell  me,  Grace,  ought  the  mine  to 
have  felt  dependent  upon  the  woman  who  found  it, 
and  who  valued  it  so  highly,  do  you  think?  Then 
why  should  you  feel  dependent  upon  me?  Why, 
you  belong  to  me,  child !  Your  life,  the  most  won 
derful — the  dearest  thing  in  all  the  world,  belongs 
to  me ;  just  as  the  mine  belonged  to  the  woman  and 
brought  her  great  joy  because  it  blessed  the  world. 
When  others  threw  your  life  aside,  when  you  yourself 
tried  to  throw  it  away,  I  found  it.  I  took  it.  It  is 

218 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

mine!  And  it  is  the  dearest  thing  in  all  the  world 
to  me,  because  it  is  so  great  a  thing,  because  no  other 
life  can  take  its  place,  and  because  it  is  of  such  great 
worth  to  the  world.  Don't  you  see  ?"  The  calm 
voice  was  vibrant  now  with  deep  emotion. 

Looking  into  those  gray  eyes  that  shone  with  such 
loving  kindness  into  her  own,  Grace  Conner  realized 
a  mighty  truth ;  a  truth  that  would  mould  and  shape 
her  own  life  into  a  life  of  beauty  and  power. 

"So,  dear,"  the  nurse  continued,  "when  you  go  out 
into  the  world  again,  and  people  make  you  feel  the 
old  hurt — as  they  will — you  must  remember  the 
woman  who  found  the  mine;  and,  feeling  that  you 
belong  to  me  and  to  all  life,  you  will  not  let  people 
rob  you  of  your  place  in  the  world.  You  will  not 
let  them  rob  me  of  my  great  wealth.  And  now  you 
must  try  the  very  best  you  can  to  get  work  here  in 
Corinth,  but  if  you  should  fail  to  find  it,  you  won't 
let  that  matter  too  much.  You'll  keep  your  place 
right  here  with  me  just  the  same,  won't  you,  Grace, 
because  you  are  my  mine,  you  know  ?" 

Long  and  earnestly  the  girl  looked  into  the  face 
of  the  nurse,  and  Miss  Farwell  understood  what  the 
other  could  not  say.  Suddenly  the  girl  caught  her 
friend's  hand  and  kissed  it  passionately,  then  rushed 
from  the  room.  Miss  Farwell  wisely  let  her  go 
without  a  word,  but  her  own  eyes  were  full. 

She  turned  to  the  open  window  to  see  her  neigh 
bor,  the  minister,  coming  in  at  the  gate. 


219 


CHAPTEK  XXIV. 

THE  WAY  OUT. 

'You  see  you  will  need  to  find  a  way  out  for  yourself.' 


was  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  busily 
engaged  with  a  big  washing.  Denny  had 
gone  up  town  on  some  errand.  Much  to 
Miss  Farwell's  surprise  Dan  did  not,  as  usual,  take 
the  path  leading  to  the  garden,  but  kept  straight 
ahead  to  the  porch,  and  his  face  was  very  grave  as 
he  asked  if  he  might  come  in.  She  welcomed  him 
with  frank  pleasure,  and  took  up  at  once  the  thread 
of  conversation  which  the  visit  of  the  Elders  had 
interrupted  the  day  before.  But  it  was  clear  that 
her  big  friend's  mind  was  busy  with  other  thoughts, 
and  soon  they  were  facing  an  embarrassing  silence. 
The  young  woman  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the  monu 
ment  across  the  street,  while  Dan  moved  uneasily. 
At  last  the  man  broke  the  silence. 

"Miss  Farwell  I  don't  know  what  you  will  think  of 
me  for  coming  to  you  upon  the  errand  that  brought 
me,  but  I  feel  that  I  —  I  mean,  I  want  you  to  believe 
that  I  am  trying  to  do  what  is  best." 

She  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

Dan  went  on.  "I  learned  something  yesterday, 
that  I  am  sure  you  ought  to  know,  and  there  seems 
to  be  no  one  else  to  tell  you,  so  I  —  I  came." 

220 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Miss  Harwell's  cheeks  and  brow  grew  crimson, 
but  in  a  moment  she  was  her  own  calm  self  again. 

"Go  on,  please." 

Then  he  told  her. 

While  he  was  speaking  of  the  Elders'  visit  and  his 
talk  with  Dr.  Abbott,  she  watched  him  closely.  Two 
or  three  times  she  smiled.  When  he  had  finished, 
she  asked  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm  in  her  voice,  "And 
do  you  wish  to  see  my  letters  of  recommendation? 
Shall  I  give  you  a  list  of  people  to  whom  you  might 
write  ?" 

"Miss  Farwell !"  Dan's  voice  brought  the  hot  color 
again  to  her  cheek. 

"Forgive  me !    That  was  unkind,"  she  said. 

"Well  rather.  You  might  see  that  I  did  not  come 
to  you  with  this  for — well  for  fun,"  he  finished  with 
a  grim  smile. 

"You  don't  seem  to  be  enjoying  it  greatly,"  she 
agreed  critically.  "I  can  easily  understand  how  this 
talk  might  result  in  something  very  serious  for  you. 
You  will  remember,  I  think,  that  I  warned  you,  you 
could  not  leave  the  preacher  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fence."  She  was  deliberately  trying  him.  "But  of 
course  you  can  easily  avoid  any  trouble  with  your 
people,  you  have  only  to — " 

She  stopped,  checked  by  the  expression  on  his 
face. 

His  voice  rang  out  sharply  with  a  quality  in  its 
tone  that  sent  a  thrill  to  the  heart  of  the  woman.  "I 
did  not  come  here  to  discuss  the  possibility  of  trouble 
for  me.  Please  believe  this — even  if  I  am  a  servant 
of  the  church." 

221 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

He  spoke  the  last  words  with  a  shade  of  bitterness, 
she  thought,  and  as  she  looked  at  him — his  powerful 
form  tense  for  a  moment,  with  firm-set  lips  and 
square  jaw  and  stern  eyes — she  found  herself  won 
dering  what  would  happen  if  this  servant  should 
ever  decide  to  be  the  master. 

"Don't  you  see  how  this  idle,  silly,  wicked  talk  is 
likely  to  harm  you  ?"  he  asked  almost  roughly.  "You 
know  what  the  same  thing  did  for  Grace  Conner.  It 
is  really  serious,  Miss  Farwell — believe  me  it  is,  or  I 
should  not  have  told  you  about  it  at  all.  Already 
Dr.  Harry — "  He  checked  himself.  His  reference 
to  his  friend  was  unintentional. 

She  finished  the  sentence  quietly,  " — has  found 
some  people  who  will  not  employ  me  because  of  the 
things  that  are  being  said.  I  knew  something  was 
wrong,  for — instead  of  telling  me  of  possible  cases 
and  assuring  me  of  work,  he  has  been  saying  lately, 
'I  will  let  you  know  if  anything  turns  up.' ' 

Dan  broke  in  eagerly,  "Dr.  Abbott  has  done  every 
thing  he  could,  Miss  Farwell.  I  ought  not  to  have 
mentioned  him  at  all.  You  must  not  think — " 

She  interrupted  him  with  quiet  dignity.  "Cer 
tainly  I  do  not  think  of  any  such  thing.  You  and 
Dr.  Abbott  are  both  very  kind  to  consider  me  in  this 
way,  but  really  you  must  not  be  troubled  about  this 
silly  gossip.  I  am  not  exactly  dependent  upon  the 
good  people  of  Corinth,  you  know.  I  can  go  back  to 
the  city  at  any  time.  Perhaps,"  she  added  slowly, 
"considering  everything  that  would  be  the  wisest 
thing  to  do,  after  all.  It  was  only  for  Grace  Con 
ner's  sake  I  have  remained." 

222 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Dan  spoke  eagerly  again,  "But  you  do  not  need  to 
leave  Corinth.  This  talk  you  know,  is  all  because 
of  your  companion's  reputation." 

"You  mean,"  she  said  quietly,  "the  reputation  that 
people  have  given  my  companion." 

"So  far  as  the  situation  goes  it  amounts  .  to  the 
same  thing,"  he  answered.  "It  is  your  association 
with  her.  If  you  could  arrange  to  board  with  some 
family  now  —  " 

Again  she  interrupted  him.  "Grace  needs  me, 
Mr.  Matthews." 

"But  it  is  all  so  unjust,"  he  argued  lamely.  "The 
sacrifice  is  too  great.  You  can't  afford  to  place 
yourself  before  the  community  in  such  a  wrong 


The  young  woman's  face  revealed  her  surprise 
and  disappointment.  She  had  grown  to  think  of 
Dan  as  being  big  and  fine  in  spirit  as  in  body,  and 
now,  to  hear  him  voice,  what  she  believed  to  be  the 
spirit  and  policy  of  his  profession,  was  a  shock  that 
hurt.  She  would  have  flashed  out  at  him  with  scorn 
ful,  cutting  words,  but  she  felt,  intuitively,  that  he 
was  not  being  true  to  himself  in  this  —  that  he  was 
forced,  as  it  were,  into  a  false  position  by  something 
deep  down  in  his  life.  This  feeling  robbed  her  of 
the  power  to  reply  in  stinging  words,  and  instead 
gave  her  answer  a  note  of  sadness. 

"Are  you  not  advocating  the  doctrines  and  policy 
of  the  people  who  are  responsible  for  the  'wrong 
light7  rather  than  the  teachings  of  Christ  ?  Are  you 
not  now  speaking  professionally,  having  forgotten 


223 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

our  agreement  to  leave  the  preacher  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fence?" 

The  big  fellow's  embarrassment  was  evident  as  he 
said,  "Miss  Farwell,  you  must  not — you  must  not 
misunderstand  me  again.  I  did  not  mean — I  cannot 
stand  the  thought  of  your  being  so  misjudged  be 
cause  of  this  beautiful  Christian  service.  I  was  only 
seeking  a  way  out." 

"No,"  she  said  gently,  "I  will  not  misunderstand 
you,  but  there  is  only  one  way  out,  as  you  put  it." 

"And  that?" 

"My  ministry." 

Dan  sprang  to  his  feet  and  crossed  the  room  to  her 
side. 

"What  a  woman  you  are!"  he  exclaimed  impul 
sively. 

She  arose,  trembling;  always  when  he  came  near 
— something  about  this  man  moved  her  strangely. 

"But  my  way  out  will  not  help  you,"  she  said. 
"You  must  think  of  your  ministry." 

"I  thought  we  agreed  not  to  talk  of  that,"  he  re 
turned. 

"But  we  must.  You  must  consider  what  the  re 
sult  will  be  if  you  are  seen  with  me — with  Grace 
and  me."  She  caught  herself  quickly.  "Can  the 
pastor  of  Memorial  Church  afford  to  associate  with 
two  women  of  such  doubtful  reputation  ?  What  will 
your  church  think  ?"  She  was  smiling  as  she  spoke, 
but  beneath  the  smile  there  was  much  of  earnestness. 
She  was  determined  that  he  should  know  how  well 
she  understood  his  position.  She  wondered  if  he  him- 


224 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

self  understood  it.  "You  see  you  will  need  to  find 
a  way  out  for  yourself/'  she  insisted. 

"I  am  not  looking  for  a  way  out,"  lie  growled. 

"Ah,  but  you  should.  You  must  consider  your 
influence.  Consider  the  great  harm  your  interest  in 
Grace  Conner  will  do  your  church.  You  must  re 
member  your  position  in  the  community.  You  can 
not  afford  to — to  risk  your  reputation." 

Under  her  skillfully  chosen  words,  he  again  as 
sumed  an  air  of  indignant  reserve.  She  saw  his 
hands  clench,  and  the  great  muscles  in  his  arms  and 
shoulders  swell. 

Unconsciously — or  was  it  unconsciously  ? — she  had 
repeated  almost  the  exact  words  of  Elder  Jordan. 
The  stock  argument  sounded  strange  coming  from 
her.  Deliberately  she  went  on.  "Really  there  is  no 
reason  why  you  should  suffer  from  this.  It  is  not 
necessary  for  you  to  continue  our  little  friendship. 
You  can  stay  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence.  I — we 
will  understand.  You  have  too  much  at  stake. 
You—" 

He  interrupted.  "Miss  Farwell,  I  don't  know 
what  you  think  of  me  that  you  can  say  these  things. 
I  had  hoped  that  you  were  beginning  to  look  upon 
me  as  a  man,  not  merely  as  a  preacher.  I  had  even 
dared  think  that  our  friendship  was  growing  to  be 
something  more  than  just  a  little  friendly  acquaint 
ance.  If  I  am  mistaken,  I  will  stay  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fence.  If  I  am  right — if  you  do  care  for 
my  friendship,"  he  finished  slowly,  "I  will  try  to 
serve  my  people  faithfully,  but  I  will  not  willingly 


225 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

shape  my  life  by  their  foolish,  wicked  whims. 
Denny's  garden  may  get  along  without  me,  and  you 
may  not  need  what  you  call  'our  little  friendship'  but 
I  need  Denny's  garden,  and — I  need  you." 

Her  face  shone  with  gladness.  "Forgive  me," 
she  said.  "I  only  wished  to  be  sure  that  you  under 
stood  some  things  clearly." 

At  her  rather  vague  words,  he  said,  "I  am  begin 
ning  to  understand  a  good  many  things." 

"And  understanding,  you  will  still  come  to — " 
she  smiled,  "to  work  in  Denny's  garden  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered  with  a  boyish  laugh,  "just  as 
if  there  were  no  other  place  in  all  the  world  where  I 
could  get  a  job." 

She  watched  him  as  he  swung  down  the  walk, 
through  the  gate  and  away  up  the  street  under  the 
big  trees. 

And  as  she  watched  him,  she  recalled  his  words, 
"I  need  you; — just  as  though  there  were  no  other 
place  in  all  the  world."  The  words  repeated  them 
selves  in  her  mind. 

How  much  did  they  mean,  she  wondered. 


226 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  LABORER  AND  HIS  HIRE. 

"But  it  was  a  reaching  out  in  the  dark,  a  blind  groping 
for  something — Dan  knew  not  exactly  what:  a  restless  but 
cautious  feeling  about  for  a  place  whereon  to  set  his  feet." 

|T  was  the  Sunday  evening  following  the  inci 
dents  just  related  that  Dan  was  challenged. 
His  sermon  was  on  "Fellowship  of  Serv 
ice,"  a  theme  very  different  from  the  subjects  he  had 
chosen  at  the  beginning  of  his  preaching  in  Corinth. 
The  Doctor  smiled  as  he  listened,  telling  himself 
that  the  boy  was  already  beginning  to  "reach  out."1 
As  usual  the  Doctor  was  right.  But  it  was  a  reach 
ing  out  in  the  dark,  a  blind  groping  for  something — 
Dan  knew  not  exactly  what:  a  restless  but  cautious 
feeling  about  for  a  place  whereon  to  set  his  feet. 

With  the  sublime  confidence  of  the  newly-gradu 
ated,  this  young  shepherd  had  come  from  the  de 
nominational  granary  to  feed  his  flock  with  a  goodly 
armful  of  theological  husks;  and  very  good  husks 
they  were  too.  It  should  be  remembered  that — while 
Dan  had  been  so  raised  under  the  teachings  of  his 
home  that,  to  an  unusual  degree  his  ideals  and  am 
bitions  were  most  truly  Christian — he  knew  nothing 
of  life  other  than  the  simple  life  of  the  country 
neighborhood  where  he  was  born;  he  knew  as  little 
of  churches.  So  that — while  it  was  natural  and  easy 

227 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

for  him  to  accept  the  husks  from  his  church  teachers 
at  their  valuation,  being  wholly  without  the  fixed 
prejudice  that  comes  from  family  church  traditions 
— it  was  just  as  natural  and  easy  for  him  to  discover 
quickly,  when  once  he  was  face  to  face  with  his 
hungry  flock,  that  the  husks  were  husks. 

From  the  charm  of  the  historical  glories  of  the 
church  as  pictured  by  the  church  historians,  and 
from  the  equally  captivating  theories  of  speculative 
religion  as  presented  by  teachers  of  schools  of  the 
ology,  Dan  had  been  brought  suddenly  in  contact 
with  actual  conditions.  In  his  experience  of  the 
past  weeks  there  was  no  charm,  no  glory,  no  historical 
greatness,  no  theoretical  perfection.  There  was 
meanness,  shameful  littleness — actual,  repulsive, 
shocking.  He  was  compelled  to  recognize  the  real 
need  that  his  husks  could  not  satisfy.  It  had  been 
forced  upon  his  attention  by  living  arguments  that 
refused  to  be  put  aside.  And  Big  Dan  was  big 
enough  to  see  that  the  husks  did  not  suffice — consist 
ent  enough  to  cease  giving  them  out.  But  the  young 
minister  felt  pitifully  empty  handed. 

The  Doctor  had  foreseen  that  Dan  would  very 
soon  reach  the  point  in  his  ministerial  journey  where 
he  was  now  standing — the  point  where  he  must  de 
cide  which  of  the  two  courses  open  to  him  he  should 
choose. 

Before  him,  on  the  one  hand,  lay  the  easy,  well- 
worn  path  of  obedience  to  the  traditions,  policies  and 
doctrines  of  Memorial  Church  and  its  denominational 
leaders.  On  the  other  hand  lay  the  harder  and  less- 
frequented  way  of  truthfulness  to  himself  and  his 

228 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

own  convictions.  Would  he — lowering  his  individual 
standard  of  righteousness — wave  the  banner  of  his 
employers,  preaching — not  the  things  that  he  believed 
to  be  the  teachings  of  Jesus — but  the  things  that  he 
knew  would  meet  the  approval  of  the  church  rulers  ? 
Or  would  he  preach  the  things  that  his  own  prayerful 
judgment  told  him  were  needed  if  his  church  was 
to  be,  indeed,  the  temple  of  the  spirit  of  Christ.  In 
short  Dan  must  now  decide  whether  he  would  bow 
to  the  official  board,  that  paid  his  salary,  or  to  his 
God,  as  the  supreme  authority  to  whom  he  must  look 
for  an  indorsement  of  his  public  teaching. 

In  Dan's  case,  it  was  the  teaching  of  the  four 
years  of  school  against  the  teaching  of  his  home. 
The  home  won.  Being  what  he  was  by  birth  and 
training,  this  man  could  not  do  other  than  choose  the 
harder  way.  The  Doctor  with  a  great  amount  of 
satisfaction  saw  him  throwing  down  his  husks,  and 
awaited  the  outcome  with  interest. 

That  sermon  was  received  by  the  Elders  and  ruling 
classes  with  silent,  uneasy  bewilderment.  Others 
were  puzzled  no  less  by  the  new  and  unfamiliar  note, 
but  their  faces  expressed  a  kind  of  doubtful  satis 
faction.  Thus  it  happened  that,  with  one  excep 
tion,  not  a  person  of  the  entire  audience  mentioned 
the  sermon  when  they  greeted  their  minister  at  the 
close  of  the  service.  The  exception  was  a  big,  broad- 
shouldered  young  farmer  whom  Dan  had  never  before 
met. 

Elder  Strong  introduced  him,  "Brother  Matthews, 
you  must  meet  Brother  John  Gardner.  This  is  the 
first  time  he  has  been  to  church  for  a  long  while." 

229 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  two  young  men  shook  hands,  each  measuring 
the  other  with  admiring  eyes. 

The  Judge  continued,  "Brother  John  used  to  be 
one  of  our  most  active  workers,  but  for  some  reason 
he  has  dropped  behind.  I  never  could  just  exactly 
understand  it."  He  finished  with  his  pious,  patron 
izing  laugh,  which  somehow  conveyed  the  thought 
that  he  did  understand  if  only  he  chose  to  tell,  and 
that  the  reason  was  anything  but  complimentary  to 
Brother  John. 

The  big  farmer's  face  grew  red  at  the  Judge's 
words.  He  quickly  faced  about  as  if  to  retort,  but 
checked  himself,  and,  ignoring  the  Elder  said  directly 
to  Dan,  "Yes,  and  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I 
wouldn't  be  here  today,  but  I  am  caught  late  with  my 
harvesting,  and  short  of  hands.  I  drove  into  town 
to  see  if  I  could  pick  up  a  man  or  two.  I  didn't 
find  any  so  I  waited  over  until  church,  thinking  that 
I  might  run  across  someone  here." 

Dan  smiled.  The  husky  fellow  was  so  uncom 
promisingly  honest  and  outspoken.  It  was  like  a 
breath  of  air  from  the  minister's  own  home  hills. 
It  was  so  refreshing  Dan  wished  for  more*  "And 
have  you  found  anyone  ?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

At  the  matter-of-fact  tone  the  other  looked  at  the 
minister  with  a  curious  expression  in  his  blue  eyes. 
The  question  was  evidently  not  what  he  had  ex 
pected. 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  have  not,  but  I'm  glad  I  came 
anyway.  Your  sermon  was  mighty  interesting  to 
me,  sir.  I  couldn't  help  thinking  though,  that  these 
sentiments  about  work  would  come  a  heap  more  f  orce- 

230 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ful  from  someone  who  actually  knowed  what  a  day's 
work  was.  "My  experience  has  been  that  the  average 
preacher  knows  about  as  much  about  the  lives  of  the 
laboring  people  as  I  do  about  theology." 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken  there/'  declared  Dan. 
"The  fact  is,  that  the  average  preacher  comes  from 
the  working  classes." 

"If  he  comes  from  them  he  takes  mighty  good 
care  that  he  stays  from  them,"  retorted  the  other. 
"But  I've  got  something  else  to  do  besides  starting 
an  argument  now.  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  though, 
that  if  I  could  see  you  pitch  wheat  once  in  a  while 
when  crops  are  going  to  waste  for  want  of  help,  I'd 
feel  that  we  was  close  enough  together  for  you  to 
preach  to  me."  So  saying  he  turned  abruptly  and 
pushed  his  way  through  the  crowd  toward  a  group 
of  working-men  who  stood  near  the  door. 

The  Doctor  had  never  commented  to  Dan  on  his 
sermons.  But,  that  night  as  they  walked  home  to 
gether,  something  made  Dan  feel  that  his  friend 
was  pleased.  The  encounter  with  the  blunt  young 
farmer  had  been  so  refreshing  that  he  was  not  so 
depressed  in  spirit  as  he  commonly  was  after 
the  perfunctory,  meaningless,  formal  compliments, 
and  handshaking  that  usually  closed  his  services. 
Perhaps  because  of  this  he — for  the  first  time — 
sought  an  expression  from  his  old  friend. 

"The  people  did  not  seem  to  like  my  sermon 
tonight?"  he  ventured. 

The  Doctor  grunted  a  single  word,  "Stunned !" 

"Do  you  think  they  will  like  it  when  they  re 
cover  ?"  asked  Dan  with  an  embarrassed  laugh. 

231 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAE"  MATTHEWS 

But  the  old  man  was  not  to  be  led  into  discussing 
Dan's  work. 

"In  my  own  practice/'  he  said  dryly,  "I  never 
prescribe  medicine  to  suit  a  patient's  taste,  but  to 
cure  him." 

Dan  understood.     He  tried  again. 

"But  how  did  you  like  my  prescription,  Doctor?" 

For  a  while  the  Doctor  did  not  answer;  then  he 
said,  "Well  you  see,  Dan,  I  always  find  more  religion 
in  your  talks  when  you  are  not  talking  religiously." 

Just  then  a  team  and  buggy  passed,  and  the  voice 
of  John  Gardner  hailed  them  cheerily. 

"Good  night,  Doctor!  Good  night,  Mr.  Mat 
thews!" 

"Good  night!"  they  answered,  and  the  Doctor 
called  after  him,  "Did  you  find  your  man,  John  ?" 

"No,"  shouted  the  other,  "I  did  not.  If  you  run 
across  anyone  send  'em  out  will  you  ?" 

"There  goes  a  mighty  fine  fellow,"  commented  the 
old  physician. 

"Seems  to  be,"  agreed  Dan  thoughtfully.  "Where 
does  he  live  ?" 

The  Doctor  told  him,  adding,  "I  wouldn't  call 
until  harvest  is  over,  if  I  were  you.  He  really 
wouldn't  have  time  to  give  you  and  he'd  probably 
tell  you  so."  Which  advice  Dan  received  in  silence. 

The  sun  was  just  up  the  next  morning  when  John 
Gardner  was  hitching  his  team  to  the  big  hay  wagon. 
Already  the  smoke  was  coming  from  the  stack  of 
the  threshing  engine,  that  stood  with  the  machine  in 
the  center  of  the  field,  and  the  crew  was  coming 


232 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

from  the  cook-wagon.  Two  hired  men,  with  another 
team  and  wagon,  were  already  gathering  a  load  of 
sheaves  to  haul  to  the  threshers. 

The  house  dog  barked  fiercely  and  the  farmer 
paused  with  a  trace  in  his  hand  when  he  saw  a  big 
man  turning  into  the  barn  lot  from  the  road. 

"Good  morning!"  called  Dan  cheerily,  "I  feared  I 
was  going  to  be  late."  He  swung  up  to  the  young 
fellow  who  stood  looking  at  him — too  astonished  to 
speak — the  unhooked  trace  still  in  his  hand. 

"I  understand  that  you  need  a  hand,"  said  Dan 
briefly.  And  the  farmer  noticed  that  the  minister 
was  dressed  in  a  rough  suit  of  clothes,  a  worn  flannel 
shirt  and  an  old  slouch  hat — Dan's  fishing  rig. 

With  a  slow  smile  John  turned,  hooked  his  trace, 
and  gathered  his  lines.  "Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  walked  out  here  from  town  this  morning  to  work 
in  the  harvest  field — a  good  eight  miles  ?" 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  mean,"  returned  the  other. 

"What  for  ?"  asked  the  farmer  bluntly. 

"For  the  regular  wages,  with  one  condition." 

"And  the  condition  ?" 

"That  no  one  on  the  place  shall  be  told  that  I  am  a 
preacher,  and  that — for  today  at  least — I  pitch 
against  you.  If,  by  tonight,  you  are  not  satisfied 
with  my  work  you  can  discharge  me,"  he  added 
meaningly.  As  Dan  spoke  he  faced  the  rugged 
farmer  with  a  look  that  made  him  understand  that 
his  challenge  of  the  night  before  was  accepted. 

The  blue  eyes  gleamed.  "I'll  take  you,"  he  said 
curtly.  Calling  to  his  wife,  "Mary  give  this  man 


233 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

his  breakfast."  Then  to  Dan,  "When  you  get  through 
come  out  to  the  machine."  He  sprang  on  his  wagon 
and  Dan  turned  toward  the  kitchen. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  John  shouted,  as  the  wagon 
began  to  move,  "what'll  I  call  you  ?" 

The  other  answered  over  his  shoulder,  "My  name 
is  Dan." 

All  that  day  they  worked,  each  grimly  determined 
to  handle  more  grain  than  the  other.  Before  noon  the 
spirit  of  the  contest  had  infected  the  whole  force. 
Every  hand  on  the  place  worked  as  if  on  a  wager. 
The  threshing  crew  were  all  from  distant  parts  of 
the  country,  and  no  one  knew  who  it  was  that  had 
so  recklessly  matched  his  strength  and  staying  power 
against  John  Gardner,  the  acknowledged  champion 
for  miles  around.  Bets  were  freely  laid;  rough, 
but  good  natured  chaff  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth; 
and  now  and  then  a  hearty  yell  echoed  over  the  field, 
but  the  two  men  in  the  contest  were  silent;  they 
scarcely  exchanged  a  word. 

In  the  afternoon  the  stranger  slowly  but  surely 
forged  ahead.  John  rallied  every  ounce  of  his 
strength  but  his  giant  opponent  gained  steadily. 
When  the  last  load  came  in  the  farmer  threw  down 
his  fork  before  the  whole  crowd  and  held  out  his  hand 
to  Dan. 

"Ill  give  it  up,"  he  said  heartily.  "You're  a 
better  man  than  I  am,  stranger,  wherever  you  come 
from."  Dan  took  the  offered  hand  while  the  men 
cheered  lustily. 

But  the  light  of  battle  still  shone  in  the  minister's 
eyes. 

234 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Perhaps,"  he  said,  "pitching  is  not  your  game. 
I'll  match  you  now,  tonight,  for  anything  you  want — 
wrestling,  running,  jumping,  or  I'll  go  you  at  any 
time  for  any  work  you  can  name." 

John  slowly  looked  him  over  and  shook  his  head, 
"I  know  when  I've  got  enough,"  he  said  laughing. 
"Perhaps  some  of  the  boys  here — "  He  turned  to 
the  group. 

The  men  grinned  as  they  measured  the  stranger 
with  admiring  glances  and  one  drawled,  "We  don't 
know  where  you  come  from,  pardner,  but  we  sure 
know  what  you  can  do.  Ain't  nobody  in  this  outfit 
hankerin'  to  tackle  the  man  that  can  work  John 
Gardner  down." 

At  the  barn  the  farmer  drew  the  minister  to  one 
side. 

"Look  here,  Brother  Matthews,"  he  began. 

But  the  other  interrupted  sharply.  "My  name 
is  Dan,  Mr.  Gardner.  Don't  go  back  on  the  bargain." 

"Well  then,  Dan,  I  won't.  And  please  remember 
after  this  that  my  name  is  John.  I  started  to  ask  if 
you  really  meant  to  stay  out  here  and  work  for  me 
this  harvest  ?" 

"That  was  the  bargain,  unless  you  are  dissatisfied 
and  want  me  to  quit  tonight." 

The  other  rubbed  his  tired  arms.  "Oh  I'm  satis 
fied  all  right,"  he  said  grimly.  "But  I  can't  under 
stand  it,  that's  all." 

"No,"  said  the  other,  "and  I  can't  explain.  But 
perhaps  if  you  were  a  preacher,  and  were  met  by 
men  as  men  commonly  meet  preachers,  you  would 
understand  clearly  enough." 

235 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Tired  as  lie  was,  the  big  farmer  laughed  until  the 
tears  came. 

"And  to  think,"  he  said,  "all  the  way  home  last 
night  I  was  wondering  how  you  could  stand  it.  I 
understand  it  all  right.  Come  on  in  to  supper."  He 
led  the  way  to  the  house. 

Eor  three  days  Dan  fairly  reveled  in  the  compan 
ionship  of  those  rough  men,  who  gave  him  full  fellow 
ship  in  their  order  of  workers.  Then  he  went  back 
to  town. 

John  drove  him  in  and  the  two  chatted  like  the 
good  comrades  they  had  come  to  be,  until  within 
sight  of  the  village.  As  they  drew  near  the  town 
silence  fell  upon  them;  their  remarks  grew  formal 
and  forced. 

Dan  felt  as  if  he  were  leaving  home  to  return  to  a 
strange  land  where  he  would  always  be  an  alien.  At 
his  door  the  farmer  said  awkwardly,  "Well,  good 
bye,  Brother  Matthews,  come  out  whenever  you  can." 

The  minister  winced  but  did  not  protest.  "Thank 
you,"  he  returned,  "I  have  enjoyed  my  visit  more 
than  I  can  say."  And  there  was  something  so  pa 
thetic  in  the  brown  eyes  of  the  stalwart  fellow  that 
the  other  strong  man  could  make  no  reply.  He 
drove  quickly  away  without  a  word  or  a  backward 
look. 

In  his  room  Dan  sat  down  by  the  window,  think 
ing  of  the  morrow  and  what  the  church  called  his 
work,  of  the  pastoral  visits,  the  committee  meetings, 
the  Ladies'  Aid.  At  last  he  stood  up  and  stretched 
his  great  body  to  its  full  height  with  a  sigh.  Then 
drawing  his  wages  from  his  pocket  he  placed  the 

236 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

money  on  the  study  table  and  stood  for  a  long  time 
contemplating  the  pieces  of  silver  as  if  they  could 
answer  his  thoughts.  Again  he  went  to  the  window 
and  looked  down  at  Denny's  garden  that  throughout 
the  summer  had  yielded  its  strength  to  the  touch  of 
the  crippled  boy's  hand.  Then  from  the  other  win 
dow  he  gazed  at  the  cast-iron  monument  on  the 
corner — gazed  until  the  grim  figure  seemed  to 
threaten  him  with  its  uplifted  arm. 

Slowly  he  turned  once  more  to  the  coins  on  the 
table.  Gathering  them,  one  by  one,  he  placed  them 
carefully  in  an  envelope.  Then,  seating  himself,  he 
wrote  on  the  little  package,  "The  laborer  is  worthy 
of  his  hire." 


237 


CHAPTEK  XXYI. 

THE  WINTER  PASSES. 

"And,  as  the  weeks  passed,  it  came  to  be  noticed  that  there 
was  often  in  the  man's  eyes,  and  in  his  voice,  a  great  sadness 
—the  sadness  of  one  who  toils  at  a  hopeless  task;  of  one 
who  suffers  for  crimes  of  which  he  is  innocent;  of  one  who 
fights  for  a  well-loved  cause  with  the  certainty  of  defeat." 

HE  harvest  time  passed,  the  winter  came  and 
was  gone  again,  and  another  springtime  was 
at  hand,  with  its  new  life  stirring  in  blade 
and  twig  and  branch,  and  its  mystical  call  to  the 
hearts  of  men. 

Memorial  Church  was  looking  forward  to  the 
great  convention  of  the  denomination  that  was  to  be 
held  in  a  distant  city. 

All  through  the  months  following  Dan's  sermon 
on  "The  Fellowship  of  Service,"  the  new  note  con 
tinued  dominant  in  his  preaching,  and  indeed  in  all 
his  work,*  Even  his  manner  in  the  pulpit  changed. 
AH  those  little  formalities  and  mannerisms — tricks 
of  the  trade — disappeared,  while  the  distinguishing 
garb  of  the  clergyman  was  discarded  for  clothing 
such  as  is  worn  by  the  man  in  the  pew. 

It  was  impossible  that  the  story  of  those  three  days 
in  John  Gardner's  harvest  field  should  not  get  out. 
Memorial  Church  was  crowded  at  every  service 
by  those  whose  hearts  responded,  even  while  they 

238 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

failed  to  grasp  the  full  significance  of  the  preaching 
and  life  of  this  manly  fellow,  who,  in  spite  of  his 
profession,  was  so  much  a  man  among  men. 

But  the  attitude  of  the  church  fathers  and  of  the 
ruling  class  was  still  one  of  doubt  and  suspicion, 
however  much  they  could  not  ignore  the  manifest  suc 
cess  of  their  minister.  In  spite  of  their  misgivings 
their  hearts  swelled  with  pride  and  satisfaction  as, 
with  his  growing  popularity  they  saw  their  church 
forging  far  to  the  front.  And,  try  as  they  might, 
they  could  fix  upon  nothing  unchristian  in  his  teach 
ing.  They  could  not  point  to  a  single  sentence  in 
any  one  of  his  sermons  that  did  not  unmistakably 
harmonize  with  the  teaching  and  spirit  of  Jesus. 

It  was  not  so  much  what  Dan  preached  that  wor 
ried  these  pillars  of  the  church;  but  it  was  what 
he  did  not  preach,  that  made  them  uneasy.  They 
missed  the  familiar  pious  sayings  and  platitudes,  the 
time-worn  sermon-subjects  that  had  been  handled  by 
every  preacher  they  had  ever  sat  under.  The  old 
path — beaten  so  hard  and  plain  by  the  many  "bear 
ers  of  good  tidings,"  the  safe,  sure  ground  of  de 
nominational  doctrine  and  theological  speculation, 
the  familiar,  long-tried  type  of  prayer,  even,  were 
all  quietly,  but  persistently  ignored  by  this  calm- 
eyed,  broad-shouldered,  stalwart  minister,  who  was 
often  so  much  in  earnest  in  his  preaching  that  he 
forgot  to  talk  like  a  preacher. 

Unquestionably,  decided  the  fathers,  this  young 
giant  was  "unsafe";  and — wagging  their  heads 
wisely — they  predicted  dire  disasters,  under  their 
breath;  while  openly  and  abroad  they  boasted  of 

239 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  size  of  their  audiences  and  their  minister's 
power. 

"Nor  did  these  keepers  of  the  faith  fail  to  make 
Dan  feel  their  dissatisfaction.  By  hints  innumer 
able,  by  carefully  withholding  words  of  encourage 
ment,  by  studied  coldness,  they  made  him  understand 
that  they  were  not  pleased.  Every  plan  for  practical 
Christian  work  that  Dan  suggested  (and  he  suggested 
many  that  winter)  they  coolly  refused  to  endorse, 
while  requesting  that  he  give  more  attention  to  the 
long-established  activities. 

Without  protest  or  bitterness  Dan  quietly  gave  up 
his  plans,  and,  except  in  the  matter  of  his  sermons, 
yielded  to  their  demands.  Never  was  there  a 
word  of  harshness  or  criticism  of  church  or  people 
in  his  talks ;  only  firm,  but  gentle  insistence  upon  the 
great  living  principles  of  Christ's  teaching.  And  the 
people,  in  his  presence,  knew  often  that  feeling  the 
Doctor  was  conscious  of — that  this  man  was,  in 
some  way,  that  which  they  might  have  been.  Some 
of  his  hearers  this  feeling  saddened  with  regret; 
others  it  inspired  with  hope  and  filled  them  with  a 
determination  to  realize  that  best  part  of  themselves ; 
to  still  others  it  was  a  rebuke,  the  more  stinging  be 
cause  so  unconsciously  given,  and  they  were  filled 
with  anger  and  envy. 

Meanwhile  the  attitude  of  the  people  toward  Hope 
Farwell  and  the  girl  whom  she  had  befriended,  re 
mained  unaltered.  But  now  Deborah  and  Denny  as 
well  came  to  share  in  their  displeasure.  Dan 
made  no  change  in  his  relation  to  the  nurse  and  her 
friends  in  the  little  cottage  on  the  other  side 

240 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTimYS 

of  the  garden.  In  spite  of  constant  hints,  in 
sinuations  and  reflections  on  the  part  of  his  church 
masters,  he  calmly,  deliberately  threw  down  the 
gauntlet  before  the  whole  scandal-loving  community. 
And  the  community  respected  and  admired  him — 
for  this  is  the  way  with  the  herd — even  while  it 
abated  not  one  whit  its  determination  to  ruin  him 
the  instant  chance  afforded  the  opportunity. 

So  the  spirit  that  lives  in  Corinth — the  Ally, 
waited.  The  power  that  had  put  the  shadow  of  pain 
over  the  life  of  Grace  Conner,  waited  for  Hope  and 
Dan,  until  the  minister  himself  should  furnish  the 
motive  that  should  call  it  into  action.  Dan  felt  it — 
felt  his  enemy  stirring  quietly  in  the  dark,  watching, 
waiting.  And,  as  the  weeks  passed,  it  came  to  be 
noticed  that  there  was  often  in  the  man's  eyes,  and 
in  his  voice,  a  great  sadness — the  sadness  of  one  who 
toils  at  a  hopeless  task ;  of  one  who  suffers  for  crimes 
of  which  he  is  innocent ;  of  one  who  fights  for  a  well- 
loved  cause  with  the  certainty  of  defeat. 

Because  of  the  very  fine  sense  of  Dan's  nature  the 
situation  caused  him  the  keenest  suffering.  It  was 
all  so  different  from  the  life  to  which  he  had  looked 
forward  with  such  feelings  of  joy;  it  was  all  so 
unjust.  Many  were  the  evenings  that  winter  when 
the  minister  flew  to  Dr.  Harry  and  his  ministry  of 
music.  And  in  those  hours  the  friendship  between 
the  two  men  grew  into  something  fine  and  lasting,  a 
friendship  that  was  to  endure  always.  Many  times, 
too,  Dan  fled  across  the  country  to  the  farm  of  John 
Gardner,  there  to  spend  the  day  in  the  hardest  toil, 
finding  in  the  ministry  of  labor,  something  that  met 

241 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

his  need.  But  more  than  these  was  the  friendship 
of  Hope  Farwell  and  the  influence  of  her  life  and 
ministry. 

It  was  inevitable  that  the  very  attitude  of  the 
community  should  force  these  two  friends  into  closer 
companionship  and  sympathy.  The  people,  in  judg 
ing  them  so  harshly  for  the  course  each  had  chosen — 
because  to  them  it  was  right  and  the  only  course 
possible  to  their  religious  ideals — drove  them  to  a 
fuller  dependence  upon  each  other. 

Dan,  because  of  his  own  character  and  his  concep 
tion  of  Christ,  understood,  as  perhaps  no  one  else  in 
the  community  could  possibly  have  done,  just  why 
the  nurse  clung  to  Grace  Conner  and  the  work  she 
had  undertaken;  while  he  felt  that  she  grasped,  as 
no  one  else,  the  peculiarly  trying  position  in  which 
he  so  unexpectedly  found  himself  placed  in  his  min 
istry.  And  Hope  Farwell,  feeling  that  Dan  alone 
understood  her,  realized  as  clearly  that  the  minister 
had  come  to  depend  upon  her  as  the  one  friend  in 
Corinth  who  appreciated  his  true  situation.  Thus, 
while  she  gave  him  strength  for  his  fight,  she  drew 
strength  for  her  own  from  him. 

Since  that  day  when  he  had  told  her  of  the  talk 
of  the  people  that  matter  had  not  been  mentioned 
between  them,  though  it  was  impossible  that  they 
should  not  know  the  attitude  of  the  community  to 
ward  them  both.  That  subtle,  un-get-at-able  power 
— the  Ally,  that  is  so  irresistible,  so  certain  in  its 
work,  depending  for  results  upon  words  with  double 
meanings,  suggestive  nods,  tricks  of  expression,  sly 
winks  and  meaning  smiles — while  giving  its  victims 

242 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

no  opportunity  for  defense,  never  leaves  them  in 
doubt  as  to  the  object  of  its  attack. 

The  situation  was  never  put  into  words  by  these 
two,  but  they  knew,  and  each  knew  the  other  knew. 
And  their  respect,  confidence  and  regard  for  each 
other  grew  steadily,  as  it  must  with  all  good  com 
rades  under  fire.  In  those  weeks  each  learned  to 
know  and  depend  upon  the  other,  though  neither 
realized  to  what  extent.  So  it  came  to  be  that  it  was 
not  Grace  Conner  alone,  that  kept  Miss  Farwell  in 
Corinth,  but  the  feeling  that  Dan  Matthews,  also, 
depended  upon  her — the  feeling  that  she  could  not 
desert  her  comrade  in  the  fight,  or — as  they  had  both 
come  to  feel — their  fight. 

Hope  Farwell  was  not  a  schoolgirl.  She  was  a 
strong  full-blooded,  perfectly  developed,  workwoman, 
matured  in  body  and  mind.  She  realized  what  the 
continued  friendship  of  this  man  might  mean  to  her 
— realized  it  fully  and  was  glad.  Dimly,  too,  she 
saw  how  this  that  was  growing  in  her  heart  might 
bring  great  pain  and  suffering — life-long  suffering, 
perhaps.  For — save  this — their  present,  common 
fight,  the  life  of  the  nurse  and  the  life  of  the  church 
man  held  nothing  in  common.  His  deepest  convic 
tions  had  led  him  into  a  ministry  that  was,  to  her, 
the  sheerest  folly. 

Hope  Farwell's  profession  had  trained  her  to  al 
most  perfect  self-control.  There  was  no  danger  that 
she  would  let  herself  go.  Her  strong,  passionate 
heart  would  never  be  given  its  freedom  by  her,  to  the 
wrecking  of  the  life  upon  which  it  fixed  its  affec 
tions.  She  would  suffer  the  more  deeply  for  that 

243 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

very  reason.  There  is  no  pain  so  poignant  as  that 
which  is  borne  in  secret.  But  still — still  she  was 
glad !  Such  a  strange  thing  is  a  woman's  heart ! 

And  Dan!  Dan  was  not  given  to  self-analysis; 
few  really  strong  men  are.  He  felt:  he  did  not 
reason.  Neither  did  he  look  ahead,  to  see  whither 
he  was  bound.  Such  a  strange  thing  is  the  heart  of 
a  man! 


244 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

DEBORAH'S  TROUBLE. 

"  'Oh,  I  don't  know  what  he'd  do,  but  I  know  he'd  do 
something.  He's  that  kind  of  a  man.' " 

HEN  the  first  days  of  the  spring  bass-fishing 
came,  the  Doctor  coaxed  Dan  away  for  a 
three  days  trip  to  the  river,  beyond  Gor 
don's  Mills,  where  the  roaring  trout-brook  enters 
the  larger  stream. 

It  was  well  on  toward  noon  the  morning  that  Dan 
and  the  Doctor  left,  that  Miss  Farwell  found  Deborah 
in  tears,  with  Denny  trying  vainly  to  comfort  her. 

"Come,  come,  mother,  don't  be  takin'  on  so.  It'll 
be  all  right  somehow,"  Denny  was  saying  as  the  nurse 
paused  on  the  threshold  of  the  little  kitchen,  and  the 
crippled  lad's  voice  was  broken,  though  he  strove  so 
bravely  to  make  it  strong. 

The  widow  in  her  low  chair,  her  face  buried  in  her 
apron,  swayed  back  and  forth  in  an  agony  of  grief, 
her  strong  form  shaking  with  sobs.  Denny  looked 
at  the  young  woman  appealingly  as — with  his  one 
good  hand  on  his  mother's  shoulder — he  said  again, 
"Come,  mother,  look  up ;  it's  Miss  Hope  that's  come 
to  see  you.  Don't,  don't  mother  dear.  We'll  make 
it  all  right — sure  we  will  though ;  we've  got  to !" 

Miss  Farwell  went  to  Denny's  side  and  together 
they  managed,  after  a  little,  to  calm  the  good  woman. 

245 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"It's  a  shame  it  is  for  me  to  be  a-goin'  on  so,  Miss 
Hope,  but  I — but  I — "  She  nearly  broke  down 
again. 

"Won't  you  tell  me  the  trouble,  Mrs.  Mulhall?" 
urged  the  nurse.  "Perhaps  I  can  help  you." 

"Indade,  dear  heart,  don't  I  know  you've  throuble 
enough  of  your  own,  without  your  loadin'  up  with 
Denny's  an'  mine  beside?  Ain't  I  seen  how  you 
been  put  to  it  the  past  months  to  make  both  ends  meet 
for  you  an'  Gracie,  poor  child ;  an'  you  all  the  time 
fightin'  to  look  cheerful  an'  bright,  so  as  to  keep  her 
heartened  up  ?  Many's  the  time,  Miss  Hope,  I've 
seen  the  look  on  your  own  sweet  face,  when  you 
thought  nobody'd  be  noticin',  an'  every  night  Denny 
an'  me's  prayed  the  blessed  Virgin  to  soften  the 
hearts  of  the  people  in  this  danged  town.  Oh,  I 
know !  I  know !  But  it  does  look  like  God  had  clean 
forgotten  us  altogether.  I  can't  help  believin'  it 
would  be  different  somehow  if  only  we  could  go  to 
mass  somewhere  like  decent  Christians  ought." 

"But  you  and  Denny  have  helped  me  more  than  I 
can  ever  tell  you,  dear  friend,  and  now  you  must  let 
me  help  you,  don't  you  see?" 

"It's  glad  enough  I'd  be  to  let  you  help,  an'  quick 
enough,  too,  if  it  was  anything  that  you  could  fix. 
But  nothin'  but  money'll  do  it,  an'  I  can  see  by  them 
old  shoes  you're  a-wearin',  an'  you  goin'  with  that  old 
last  year's  coat  all  winter,  that  you — that  you  ain't 
earned  but  just  enough  to  keep  you  an'  Gracie  alive." 

"That's  all  true  enough,  Mrs.  Mulhall,"  returned 
the  nurse,  cheerfully,  "but  I  am  sure  it  will  help  you 


246 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

just  to  tell  me  about  the  trouble."  Then,  with  a 
little  more  urging,  the  nurse  drew  from  them  the 
whole  pitiful  story. 

At  the  time  of  Jack  MulhalTs  death,  Judge  Strong 
had  held  a  mortgage  on  the  little  home  for  a  small 
amount.  By  careful  planning  the  widow  and  her 
son  had  managed  to  pay  the  interest  promptly,  and 
the  Judge,  though  he  coveted  the  place,  had  not  dared 
to  push  the  payment  of  the  mortgage  too  soon  after 
the  marshal's  death  because  of  public  sentiment.  But 
now,  sufficient  time  having  elapsed  for  the  public  to 
forget  their  officer,  who  had  been  killed  on  duty,  and 
Deborah,  through  receiving  Grace  Conner  and  Miss 
Farwell  into  her  home,  being  included  to  some  extent 
in  the  damaging  comments  of  the  righteous  com 
munity,  the  crafty  Judge  saw  his  opportunity.  He 
knew  that,  while  the  people  would  not  themselves  go 
to  the  length  of  putting  Deborah  and  her  crippled  boy 
out  of  their  little  home,  he  had  nothing  to  fear  from 
the  sentiment  of  the  community  should  he  do  so 
under  the  guise  of  legitimate  business. 

The  attitude  of  the  people  had  kept  Deborah  from 
earning  as  much  as  usual  and,  for  the  first  time,  they 
had  been  unable  to  pay  the  interest.  Indeed  it  was 
only  by  the  most  rigid  economy  that  they  would  be 
able  to  make  their  bare  living  until  Denny's  garden 
should  again  begin  to  bring  them  in  something* 

Their  failure  to  pay  the  interest  gave  the  Judge 
added  reason  for  pushing  the  payment  of  the  debt. 
Everything  had  been  done  in  regular  legal  form. 
Deborah  and  Denny  must  go  the  next  day.  The 


247 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

widow  had  exhausted  every  resource;  promises  and 
pleadings  were  useless,  and  it  was  only  at  the  last 
hour  that  she  had  given  up. 

"But  have  you  no  relatives,  Mrs.  Mulhall,  who 
could  help  you  ?  No  friends  ?  Perhaps  Dr.  Old- 
ham—" 

Deborah  shook  her  head.  "There's  only  me  an' 
Brother  Mike  in  the  family,"  she  said.  "Mike's  a 
brick-layer  an'  would  give  the  coat  off  his  back  for 
me,  but  he's  movin'  about  so  over  the  country,  bein' 
single,  you  see,  that  I  can't  get  a  letter  to  him.  I  did 
write  to  him  where  I  heard  from  him  last,  but  me 
letter  come  back.  He  don't  write  often,  you  see, 
thinkin'  Denny  an'  me  is  all  right.  I  ain't 
seen  him  since  he  was  here  to  help  put  poor  Jack 
away." 

For  a  few  minutes  the  silence  in  the  little  room  was 
broken  only  by  poor  Deborah's  sobs,  and  by  Denny's 
voice,  as  he  tried  to  comfort  his  mother. 

Suddenly  the  nurse  sprang  to  her  feet.  "There 
is  some  one,"  she  cried.  "I  knew  there  must  be,  of 
course.  Why  didn't  we  think  of  him  before  ?" 

Deborah  raised  her  head,  a  look  of  doubtful  hope 
on  her  tear-wet  face. 

"Mr.  Matthews,"  explained  the  young  woman. 

Deborah's  face  fell.  "But,  child,  the  minister's 
away  with  the  Doctor.  An'  what  good  could  he  be 
doin'  if  he  was  here,  I'd  like  to  know?  He's  that 
poor  himself." 

'Oh,  I  don't  know  what  he'd  do,  but  I  know  he'd 
do  something.  He's  that  kind  of  a  man,"  declared 


248 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAIST  MATTHEWS 

the  nurse,  with  such  conviction  that,  against  their 
judgment,  Deborah  and  Denny  took  heart. 

"And  he's  not  so  far  away  but  that  he  can  be 
reached,"  added  Hope. 

That  afternoon  the  dilapidated  old  hack  from  Cor 
inth  to  Gordon's  Mills  carried  a  passenger. 


249 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  FISHERMAN. 

"  'Humph !'  grunted  the  other,  Tve  noticed  that  there's  a 
lot  of  unnecessary  things  that  have  to  be  done.'" 

the  crisis  of  Deborah's  trouble,  Hope  had 
turned  to  Dan  impulsively,  as  the  one 
woman  turns  to  the  one  man.  When  she 
was  powerless  in  her  own  strength  to  meet  the  need 
she  looked  confidently  to  him. 

But  now  that  she  was  actually  on  the  way  to  him, 
with  Corinth  behind  and  the  long  road  over  the  hills 
and  through  the  forests  before,  she  had  time  to  think, 
while  the  conscious  object  of  her  journey  forced  itself 
on  her  thinking. 

The  thing  that  the  young  woman  had  so  dimly 
foreseen,  for  herself,  of  her  friendship  with  this  man, 
she  saw  now  more  clearly,  as  she  realized  how  much 
she  had  grown  to  depend  upon  him — upon  the 
strength  of  his  companionship.  How  she  had  learned 
to  watch  for  his  coming,  and  to  look  often  toward  the 
corner  window  of  the  house  on  the  other  side  of  the 
garden !  But,  after  all — she  asked  herself — was  her 
regard  for  him  more  than  a  natural  admiration  for 
his  strong  character,  as  she  had  seen  it  revealed  in 
the  past  months  ?  Their  peculiar  situation  had 
placed  him  more  in  her  thoughts  than  any  man  had 
ever  been  before.  Was  not  this  all  ?  The  possibility 

250 


THE  CALLIXG  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

had  not  yet  become  a  certainty.  The  revelation  of 
Hope  Farwell  to  herself  was  yet  to  come. 

The  hack,  with  its  one  passenger,  arrived  at  Gor 
don's  Mills  about  four  o'clock,  and  Miss  Farwell, 
climbing  down  from  the  ancient  vehicle  in  front  of 
the  typical  country  hotel,  inquired  for  Dr.  Oldham. 

The  slouchy,  slow-witted  proprietor  of  the  place 
passed  her  inquiry  on  to  a  group  of  natives  who 
lounged  on  the  porch,  and  one,  whose  horse  was 
hitched  in  front  of  the  blacksmith  shop  across  the 
way,  gave  the  information  that  he  had  seen  the  Doc 
tor  and  the  big  parson  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek  as 
he  came  past  an  hour  before.  He  added  that  he 
"reckoned  they  wouldn't  be  in  'til  dark,  fer  they 
was  a-ketchin'  a  right  smart  of  bass." 

"Is  it  far  from  here  ?"  asked  the  nurse. 

"Somethin'  less  than  a  mile,  ain't  hit,  Bill?" 

Bill  "  'lowed  hit  war  about  that.  Mile  an'  a 
quarter  to  Bud  Jones',  Bud  called  hit." 

"And  the  road?" 

"Foller  the  creek — can't  miss  it."  This  from  the 
chorus.  And  Miss  Farwell  set  out,  watched  by  every 
eye  on  the  place  until  she  disappeared  around  the 
first  bend. 

As  she  drew  near  the  river,  the  banks  of  which 
are  marked  by  a  high  bluff  on  the  other  side,  the 
young  woman  felt  a  growing  sense  of  embarrass 
ment.  What  would  Mr.  Matthews  think  of  her  com 
ing  to  him  in  such  a  way?  And  Dr.  Oldham — . 
Already  she  could  feel  the  keen  eyes  of  the  old  phy 
sician,  with  their  knowing  twinkle,  fixed  upon  her 
face.  The  Doctor  always  made  you  feel  that  he  knew 

251 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

so  much  more  about  you  than  you  knew  about  your 
self. 

Coming  to  the  river  at  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  she 
saw  them,  and  half  hidden  by  the  upturned  roots  of  a 
fallen  tree,  she  stood  still.  They  were  on  the  down 
stream  side  of  the  creek ;  Dan,  with  rubber  boots  that 
came  to  his  hips,  standing  far  out  on  the  sandy  bar, 
braced  against  the  current,  that  tugged  and  pulled  at 
his  great  legs;  the  Doctor  farther  down,  on  the 
bank. 

Miss  Farwell  watched  Dan  with  the  curious  inter 
est  a  woman  always  feels  when  watching  a  man  who, 
while  engaged  in  a  man's  work  or  play,  is  uncon 
scious  of  her  presence. 

She  saw  the  fisherman  as  he  threw  the  line  far  out, 
with  a  strong,  high  swing  of  his  long  arm.  And  as 
she  looked,  a  lusty  bass — heavy,  full  of  fight — took 
the  hook,  and  she  saw  the  man  stand  motionless, 
intent,  alert,  at  the  instant  he  first  felt  the  fish.  Then 
she  caught  the  skillful  turn  of  his  wrist  as  he  struck 
— quick  and  sure;  watched,  with  breathless  interest 
as — bracing  himself — the  fisherman's  powerful  figure 
became  instinct  with  life.  With  the  boiling  water 
grasping  his  legs,  clinging  to  him  like  a  tireless 
wrestler  seeking  the  first  unguarded  moment;  and 
with  the  plunging,  tugging,  rushing  giant  at  the  other 
end  of  the  silken  line — fighting  with  every  inch  of 
his  spring-steel  body  for  freedom,  Dan  made  a  picture 
to  bring  the  light  of  admiration  to  any  woman's  eyes. 
And  Hope  Farwell  was  very  much  a  woman. 

Slowly,  but  surely,  the  strength  and  skill  of  the 
fisherman  prevailed.  The  master  of  the  waters 

252 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

came  nearer  the  hand  of  his  conqueror.  The  young 
woman  held  her  breath  while  the  fish  made  its  last, 
mad  attempt,  and  then — when  Dan  held  up  his  prize 
for  the  Doctor,  who — on  the  bank — had  been  in  the 
fight  with  his  whole  soul,  she  forgot  her  embarrass 
ment,  and — springing  into  full  view  upon  the  trunk 
of  the  fallen  tree — shouted  and  waved  her  congratu 
lations. 

Dan  almost  dropped  the  fish. 

The  Doctor,  whose  old  eyes  were  not  so  quick  to 
recognize  the  woman  on  the  log,  was  amazed  to  see 
his  companion  go  splashing,  stumbling,  ploughing 
through  the  water  toward  the  shore. 

"Hope — Miss  Farwell!"  gasped  Dan,  floundering 
up  the  bank,  the  big  fish  still  in  his  hand,  the  shining 
water  streaming  from  his  high  boots,  his  face  glowing 
with  healthful  exercise — a  something  else,  perhaps. 
"What  good  fortune  brings  you  here  ?" 

At  his  impetuous  manner,  and  the  eagerness  that 
shone  in  his  eyes,  and  sounded  in  his  voice,  the 
woman's  face  had  grown  rosy  red,  but  by  the  time 
the  fisherman  had  gained  a  place  by  her  side  the 
memory  of  her  mission  had  driven  every  other 
thought  from  her  mind.  Briefly  she  told  him  of 
Deborah's  trouble,  and  a  few  moments  later  the  Doc 
tor — crossing  the  creek  higher  up — joined  them.  As 
they  talked  Hope  saw  all  the  light  and  joy  go  from 
Dan's  face,  and  in  its  place  came  a  look  of  sadness 
and  determination  that  made  her  wonder. 

"Doctor,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  back  to  Corinth 
with  Miss  Farwell  tonight.  We'll  get  a  team  and 
buggy  at  the  Mills." 

253 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  old  man  swore  heartily.  Why  had  not  the 
foolish  Irishwoman  let  them  know  her  situation  be 
fore?  Still  swearing  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
book  and  hastily  signed  a  check.  "Here,  Dan/7  he 
said,  "use  this  if  you  have  to.  You  understand — 
don't  hesitate  if  you  need  it." 

Eeluctantly  the  younger  man  took  the  slip  of 
paper.  "I  don't  think  it  will  be  needed,"  he  re 
sponded.  "It  ought  not  to  be  necessary  for  you  to  do 
this,  Doctor." 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  other,  "I've  noticed  that 
there's  a  lot  of  unnecessary  things  that  have  to  be 
done.  Hustle  along,  you  two.  I'm  going  back  after 
the  mate  to  that  last  one  of  yours." 

On  the  way  back  to  the  hotel  Dan  told  the  nurse 
that  the  check  would  mean  much  to  the  Doctor  if  it 
were  used  at  this  particular  time.  "But,"  he  added 
thoughtfully,  again,  "I  don't  think  it  will  be  used." 

They  stopped  long  enough  at  the  hotel  for  a  hur 
ried  lunch,  then — with  a  half-broken  team  and  a 
stout  buggy — started,  in  the  gathering  dusk  for 
Corinth. 

As  the  light  went  out  of  the  sky  and  the  mysterious 
stillness  of  the  night  came  upon  them,  they,  too, 
grew  quiet,  as  if  no  words  were  needed.  They 
seemed  to  be  passing  into  another  world — a  strange 
dream-world  where  they  were  alone.  The  things  of 
everyday,  the  common-place  incidents  and  happen 
ings  of  their  lives,  seemed  to  drift  far  away.  They 
talked  but  little.  There  was  so  little  to  say.  Once 
Dan  leaned  over  to  tuck  the  lap  robe  carefully  about 


254 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

his  companion,  for  the  early  spring  air  was  chill  when 
the  sun  went  down. 

So  they  rode  until  they  saw  the  lights  of  the  town ; 
then  it  all  came  back  to  them  with  a  rush.  The 
woman  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Tired?"  asked  Dan,  and  there  was  that  in  his 
voice  that  brought  the  tears  to  the  gray  eyes — tears 
that  he  could  not  see,  because  of  the  dark. 

"Not  a  bit,"  she  answered  cheerfully,  in  spite  of 
the  hidden  tears.  ""Will  you  see  Judge  Strong  to 
night  '?"  She  had  not  asked  him  what  he  was  going 
to  do. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  and  when  they  reached  the  big 
brown  house  he  drew  the  horses  to  a  walk.  "I  think, 
if  you  are  not  too  tired,  I  had  better  stop  now.  I 
will  not  be  long." 

There  was  now  something  in  his  voice  that  made 
her  heart  jump  with  sudden  fear,  such  as  she  had 
felt  at  times  when  Dr.  Miles,  at  the  hospital,  had  told 
her  to  prepare  to  assist  him  in  an  operation.  But  in 
her  voice  no  fear  showed  itself. 

He  hitched  the  team,  and — leaving  her  waiting  in 
the  buggy — went  up  to  the  house.  She  heard  him 
knock.  The  door  opened,  sending  out  a  flood  of 
light.  He  entered.  The  door  closed. 

She  waited  in  the  dark. 


255 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS. 

"'You  say,  sir,  that  some  things  are  inevitable.  You  are 
right.' " 

|T  the  church  prayer  meeting,  that  evening, 
Judge  Strong  prayed  with  a  fervor  unusual 
even  for  him,  and  in  church  circles  the 
Elder  was  rated  mighty  in  prayer.  In  fact  the 
Judge's  religious  capital  was  mostly  invested  in  good, 
safe,  public  petitions  to  the  Almighty — such  invest 
ments  being  rightly  considered  by  the  Judge  as  "gilt- 
edged,"  for — whatever  the  returns — it  was  all  profit. 

Theoretically  the  Judge's  God  noted  "even  the 
sparrow's  fall,"  and  in  all  of  his  public  religious 
exercises,  the  Judge  stated  that  fact  with  clearness 
and  force.  Making  practical  application  of  his 
favorite  text  the  Judge  never  killed  sparrows.  His 
everyday  energies  were  spent  in  collecting  mort 
gages,  acquiring  real  estate,  and  in  like  harmless 
pursuits,  that  were — so  far  as  he  had  observed — not 
mentioned  in  the  Word,  and  presumably,  therefore, 
were  passed  over  by  the  God  of  the  sparrow. 

So  the  Judge  prayed  that  night,  with  pious  intona 
tions  asking  his  God  for  everything  he  could  think  of 
for  himself,  his  church,  his  town  and  the  whole  world. 
And  when  he  could  think  of  no  more  blessings,  he 

256 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

unblushingly  asked  God  to  think  of  them  for  him, 
and  to  give  them  all  abundantly — more  than  they 
could  ask  or  desire.  Reminding  God  of  his  care  for 
the  sparrow,  he  pleaded  with  him  to  watch  over  their 
beloved  pastor,  "who  is  absent  from  his  flock  in 
search  of — ah,  enjoying — ah,  the  beauties  of  Nature 
— ah,  and  bring  him  speedily  back  to  his  needy  peo 
ple,  that  they  may  all  grow  strong  in  the  Lord." 

Supplementing  his  prayer  with  a  few  solemn  re 
flections,  as  was  expected  from  an  Elder  of  the 
church,  the  Judge  commented  on  the  smallness  of 
the  company  present;  lamented  the  decline  of  spir 
ituality  in  the  churches;  declared  the  need  for  the 
old  Jerusalem  gospel,  and  the  preaching  of  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus;  scored  roundly  those  who 
were  absent,  seeking  their  own  pleasure,  neglecting 
their  duties  while  the  world  was  perishing;  and 
finished  with  a  plea  to  the  faithful  to  assist  their 
worthy  pastor — who,  unfortunately,  was  not  present 
with  them  that  evening — in  every  way  possible. 
Then  the  Judge  went  home  to  occupy  the  rest  of  the 
evening  with  some  matters  of  business. 

In  the  Strong  mansion  the  room  known  as  the 
library  is  on  the  ground  floor  in  a  wing  of  the  main 
building.  As  rooms  have  a  way  of  doing,  it  ex 
presses  unmistakably  the  character  of  its  tenant. 
There  is  a  book-case,  with  a  few  spick-and-span 
books  standing  in  prim,  cold  rows  behind  the  glass 
doors — which  are  always  locked.  The  key  is  some 
where,  no  doubt.  There  are  no  pictures  on  the  walls, 
save  a  fancy  calendar — presented  with  the  compli 
ments  of  the  Judge's  banker,  a  crayon  portrait  oi 

257 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

the  Judge's  father — in  a  cheap  gilt  frame,  and  an 
other  calendar,  compliments  of  the  Judge's  grocer. 

The  furniture  and  appointments  are  in  harmony; 
a  table,  with  a  teachers'  Bible  and  a  Sunday  school 
quarterly,  a  big  safe  wherein  the  Judge  kept  his 
various  mortgages  and  papers  of  value,  and  the 
Judge's  desk,  being  most  conspicuous.  It  is  a  sig 
nificant  comment  on  the  Elder's  business  methods 
that,  in  the  top  right-hand  drawer  of  his  desk,  he 
keeps  a  weapon  ready  for  instant  use,  and  that  the 
window  shades  are  always  drawn  when  the  lamps  are 
lighted. 

Sitting  at  his  desk  the  Judge  heard  the  front  door 
bell  ring  and  his  wife  direct  someone  to  the  library. 
A  moment  later  he  looked  up  from  his  papers  to  see 
Dan  standing  before  him. 

The  Judge  was  startled.  He  had  thought  the 
young  man  far  away.  Then,  too,  the  Judge  had 
never  seen  the  minister  dressed  in  rough  trousers, 
belted  at  the  waist ;  a  flannel  shirt  under  a  torn  and 
mud-stained  coat;  and  mud-spattered  boots  that 
came  nearly  to  his  hips.  The  slouch  hat  in  the 
visitor's  hand  completed  the  picture.  Dan  looked 
big  in  any  garb.  As  the  Judge  saw  him  that  night 
he  seemed  a  giant,  and  this  giant  had  the  look  of 
one  come  in  haste  on  business  of  moment. 

What  was  it  that  made  the  Judge  reach  out  im 
pulsively  toward  that  top  right-hand  drawer. 

Forcing  his  usual  dry,  mirthless  laugh,  he  greeted 
Dan  with  forced  effusiveness,  urging  him  to  take  a 
chair,  declaring  that  he  hardly  knew  him,  that  he 


258 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA1ST  MATTHEWS 

thought  he  was  at  Gordon's  Mills  fishing.  Then  he 
entered  at  once  into  a  glowing  description  of  the 
splendid  prayer  meeting  they  had  held  that  evening, 
in  the  minister's  absence. 

Ignoring  the  invitation  to  be  seated,  Dan  walked 
slowly  to  the  center  of  the  room,  and  standing  by  the 
table,  looked  intently  at  the  man  at  the  desk.  The 
patter  of  the  Judge's  talk  died  away.  The  presence 
of  the  man  by  the  table  seemed  to  fill  the  whole  room. 
The  very  furniture  became  suddenly  cheap  and  small. 
The  Judge  himself  seemed  to  shrink,  and  he  had  a 
sense  of  something  about  to  happen.  Swiftly  he 
reviewed  in  his  mind  several  recent  deals.  What 
was  it? 

"Well,"  he  said  at  last,  when  Dan  did  not  speak, 
"won't  you  sit  down  ?" 

"Thank  you,  no,"  answered  Dan.  "I  can  stop  only 
a  minute.  I  called  to  see  you  about  that  mortgage 
on  Widow  Mulhall's  home." 

"Ah!     Well?" 

"I  want  to  ask  you,  sir,  if  it  is  not  possible  for  you 
to  reconsider  the  matter  and  grant  her  a  little  more 
time." 

The  man  at  the  desk  answered  curtly,  "Possibly, 
sir,  but  it  would  not  be  business.  Do  you — ah,  con 
sider  this  matter  as  coming  under  the  head  of  your — 
ah,  pastoral  duties  ?" 

Dan  ignored  the  question,  as  he  earnestly  replied, 
"I  will  undertake  to  see  that  the  mortgage  is  paid, 
sir,  if  you  will  give  me  a  little  time." 

To  which  the  other  answered  coldly,  "My  experi- 


259 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ence  with  ministers'  promises  to  pay  has  not  been 
reassuring,  and,  as  an  Elder  in  the  church,  I  may 
say  that  we  do  not  employ  you  to  undertake  the  pay 
ment  of  other  people's  debts.  The  people  might  not 
understand  your  interest  in  the  Widow's  affairs." 

Again  Dan  ignored  the  other's  answer,  though  his 
face  went  white,  and  his  big  hands  crushed  the 
slouch  hat  with  a  mighty  grip.  He  urged  what  it 
would  mean  to  Deborah  and  her  crippled  son  to  lose 
their  little  home  and  the  garden — almost  their  only 
means  of  support.  But  the  face  of  the  Judge  ex 
pressed  no  kindly  feeling.  He  was  acting  in  a  man 
ner  that  was  fully  legitimate.  He  had  considered  it 
carefully.  As  for  the  hardship,  some  things  in  con 
nection  with  business  were  inevitable. 

As  the  Elder  answered  Dan's  arguments  and  plead 
ings,  the  minister's  face  grew  very  sad,  and  his  low, 
slow  voice  trembled  at  times.  When  the  uselessness 
of  his  efforts  were  too  evident  for  him  to  continue 
the  conversation  he  turned  sadly  toward  the  door. 

Something  caused  the  Judge  to  say,  "Don't  go  yet, 
Brother  Matthews.  You  see,  being  a  minister,  there 
are  some  things  that  you  don't  understand.  You  are 
making  a  mistake  in — "  He  caught  his  breath, 
Instead  of  leaving  the  room,  Dan  was  closing  and 
locking  the  door. 

He  came  back  in  three  quick  strides.  This  time 
he  placed  his  hat  on  the  table.  When  he  spoke  his 
voice  was  still  low — intense — shaken  with  feeling. 

"You  say,  sir,  that  some  things  are  inevitable. 
You  are  right." 


260 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

There  was  that  in  his  manner  now  that  made  the 
man  in  the  chair  tremble.  He  started,  to  speak,  but 
Dan  silenced  him. 

"You  have  said  quite  enough,  sir.  Don't  think 
that  I  have  not  fully  considered  this  matter.  I  have. 
It  is  inevitable.  Turn  to  your  desk  there  and  write 
a  letter  to  Mrs.  Mulhall  granting  her  another  year 
of  time." 

The  Judge  tried  to  laugh,  but  his  dry  lips  made  a 
strange  sound.  With  a  quick  movement  he  jerked 
open  the  top  right-hand  drawer,  but  before  he  could 
lay  hand  on  the  weapon,  Dan  leaped  to  within  easy 
striking  distance. 

"Shut  that  drawer!" 

The  Judge  obeyed. 

"Now  write !" 

"I'll  have  the  law  on  you  1  I'll  put  you  out  of  the 
Christian  ministry!  I'll  have  you  arrested  if  you 
assault  me.  I'll — " 

"I  have  considered  all  that,  too,"  said  Dan.  "Try 
it,  and  you  will  stir  up  such  a  feeling  that  the  people 
of  this  community  will  drive  you  out  of  the  country. 
You  can't  do  it  and  live  in  Corinth,  Judge  Strong. 
You  have  too  much  at  stake  in  this  town  to  risk  it. 
You  won't  have  me  arrested  for  this;  you  can't 
afford  it,  sir.  Write  that  letter  and  no  one  but 
you  and  I  will  ever  know  of  this  incident  Kefuse, 
or  fail  to  keep  the  promise  of  your  letter,  and  no 
power  on  earth  shall  prevent  me  from  administering 
justice !  You  who  would  rob  that  crippled  boy  of  his 
garden — " 


261 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  man  shuddered.  Suddenly  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  call.  But  Dan,  reading  his  purpose  in  his 
eyes,  had  him  by  the  throat  before  he  could  utter  a 
sound. 

This  was  enough. 

With  the  letter  in  his  pocket  Dan  stood  silently 
regarding  his  now  cowering  victim,  and  his  deep 
voice  was  full  of  pain  as  he  said,  in  that  slow  way, 
"I  regret  this  incident,  Brother  Strong,  more  than  I 
can  say.  I  have  no  apology  to  make.  It  was  in 
evitable.  You  have  my  word  that  no  one  shall  know, 
from  me,  what  has  occurred  here  this  evening.  When 
you  think  it  all  over  you  will  not  carry  the  matter 
further.  You  cannot  afford  it.  You  will  see  that 
you  cannot  afford  it." 

When  the  Judge  lifted  his  head  he  was  alone. 

"Did  I  keep  you  waiting  too  long?"  asked  Dan, 
when  he  had  again  taken  his  place  by  Miss  Farwell's 
side. 

"Oh  no!      But  tell  me:   is  it  all  right?" 

"Yes,  it's  all  right.  Judge  Strong  has  kindly 
granted  our  friends  another  year.  That  will  give  us 
time  to  do  something." 

Arriving  at  the  house  he  gave  Hope  the  letter  for 
Deborah.  "And  here,"  he  said,  "is  something  for 
you."  From  under  the  buggy  seat  he  drew  the  big 
bass. 

When  Dan  returned  to  Gordon's  Mills  with  the 
team  the  next  morning,  he  gave  back  the  Doctor's 
check,  saying  simply,  "The  Judge  listened  to  reason 
and  decided  that  he  would  not  press  the  case."  And 


262 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

that  was  all  the  explanation  he  ever  made  though  it 
was  by  no  means  the  end  of  the  matter. 

Dan  himself  did  not  realize  what  he  had  done.  He 
did  not  realize  how  potent  were  the  arguments  that 
he  had  used  to  convince  the  Judge. 

The  young  minister  had  at  last  furnished  the 
motive  for  which  the  Ally  waited! 


263 


CHAPTER  XXX., 

THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  CHURCH, 

'Thus  the  Ally  has  something  for  everybody,"" 

A!N"  was  right.  Judge  Strong  could  not  af 
ford  to  make  public  the  facts  connected  with 
the  young  man's  visit  to  him  that  evening. 
He  could  not  afford  it  for  more  reasons  than  Dan 
knew.  The  arguments  with  which  the  minister  had 
backed  up  his  personal  influence  were  stronger  than 
he  realized.  The  more  the  Judge  thought  about 
the  whole  matter  the  more  he  was  inclined  to  con 
gratulate  himself  that  he  had  been  saved  from  a  step 
far  more  dangerous  than  he  had  ever  before  ventured. 
He  saw  where,  in  his  desire  to  possess  all,  he  had 
come  perilously  near  losing  everything.  But  these 
reflections  did  not  make  the  Elder  feel  one  whit 
kindlier  towards  Dan. 

While  the  Judge  was  held  both  by  his  fear  of  Dan 
and  by  his  own  best  interests,  from  moving  openly 
against  the  man  who  had  so  effectually  blocked  his 
well-laid  plans  for  acquiring  another  choice  bit  of 
Corinth  real  estate,  there  were  other  ways,  perfectly 
safe,  by  which  he  might  make  the  minister  suffer. 

Judge  Strong  had  not  been  a  ruling  elder  in  the 
church  for  so  many  years  without  learning  the  full 
value  of  the  spirit  that  makes  Corinth  its  home- 

264 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

While  the  Elder  himself  feared  the  Ally  as  he  feared 
nothing  else,  he  was  a  past  master  in  the  art  of  direct 
ing  its  strength  to  the  gaining  of  his  own  ends.  His 
method  was  extremely  simple :  the  results  certain. 

When  he  learned  of  Hope's  trip  to  Gordon's  Mills 
and  the  long  ride  in  the  night  alone  with  Dan,  the 
Judge  fairly  hugged  himself.  It  was  all  so  easy ! 

In  the  two  days  preceding  the  next  weekly  meeting 
of  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society,  it  happened,  quite  in 
cidentally,  that  the  Elder  had  quiet,  confidential  talks 
with  several  of  the  most  active  workers  in  the  con 
gregation.  The  Judge  in  these  talks  did  not  openly 
charge  the  minister  with  wrong  conduct,  with  any 
neglect  of  his  duties,  or  with  any  unfaithfulness  to 
the  doctrines.  No  indeed !  The  Judge  was  not  such 
a  bungler  in  the  art  of  directing  the  strength  of  the 
Ally  in  serving  his  own  ends.  But  nevertheless,  each 
good  sister,  when  the  interview  was  ended,  felt  that 
she  had  been  trusted  with  the  confidence  of  the  very 
inside  of  the  innermost  circle;  felt  her  heart  swell 
with  the  responsibility  of  a  state  secret  of  vast  im 
portance;  and  her  soul  grow  big  with  a  righteous 
determination  to  be  worthy. 

That  was  a  Ladies'  Aid  meeting  to  be  remembered. 
There  had  been  nothing  like  it  since  the  last  meeting 
of  its  kind.  For  of  course,  every  sister  who  had 
talked  with  the  Judge  was  determined  that  every 
other  sister  should  understand  that  she  was  on  the 
innermost  inside;  and  every  other  sister  who  had 
talked  with  the  Judge  was  equally  fired  with  the 
same  purpose;  and  the  sisters  who  had  not  talked 
quietly  with  the  Judge  were  extraordinarily  active  in 

265 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

creating  the  impression  that  they  knew  even  more 
than  those  who  had.  So  that  altogether  things  were 
hinted,  half  revealed  and  fully  told  about  Dan  and 
Miss  Farwell  that  would  have  astonished  even  Judge 
Strong  himself,  had  he  not  known  just  how  it 
would  be. 

The  Sunday  following  it  seemed  almost  as  if  Dan 
had  wished  to  help  the  Judge  in  his  campaign,  for 
while  there  was  much  in  his  sermon  about  widows 
and  orphans,  there  was  not  a  word  of  the  old  Jerusa 
lem  gospel. 

Monday  evening  Judge  Strong  and  his  wife  called 
upon  Elder  Jordan  and  his  family,  and  the  two 
church  fathers  held  a  long  and  important  conference, 
with  the  church  mothers  and  the  church  daughter 
assisting. 

The  Judge  said  very  little.  Indeed  he  seemed 
reluctant  to  discuss  the  grave  things  that  were  being 
said  in  the  community  about  their  pastor.  But  it 
was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  earnestly  concerned  for 
the  welfare  of  the  church  and  the  upbuilding  of  the 
cause  in  Corinth.  Nathan  himself  was  led  to  intro 
duce  the  subject.  The  Judge  very  skillfully  and 
politely  gave  the  women  opportunities.  He  agreed 
most  heartily  with  Elder  Jordan  that  Dan's  Chris 
tian  character  was  above  reproach,  and  that  it  was 
very  unfortunate  that  there  should  be  any  criticism 
by  the  public.  Such  things  so  weakened  the  church 
influence  in  the  community !  He  regretted,  however, 
that  their  pastor  in  his  sermons  did  not  dwell  more 
upon  first  principles  and  the  fundamental  doctrines 
of  the  church.  His  sermons  were  good,  but  the  peo- 

266 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

pie  needed  to  be  taught  the  true  way  of  salvation. 
Dan  was  young :  perhaps  he  would  learn  the  foolish 
ness  of  taking  up  these  new  ideas  of  the  church's 
mission  and  work,  that  were  sapping  the  very  foun 
dations  of  Christianity. 

Nathaniel  Jordan,  because  of  the  very  goodness  of 
his  heart  and  his  deeply  religious  nature,  had  learned 
to  love  Dan,  and  to  believe  in  him,  even  while  he 
was  forced — by  his  whole  life's  training — to  question 
the  wisdom  of  the  young  man's  preaching.  And 
while  he  was  deeply  pained  by  the  things  the  sisters 
reported,  he  found,  as  the  Judge  intended,  that  Elder 
Strong's  attitude  was  in  close  harmony  with  his  own. 

Thus  the  Ally  has  something  for  everybody.  Those 
who  did  not  doubt  Dan's  character  questioned  his 
preaching;  and  those  who  cared  but  little  what  he 
preached  found  much  to  question  in  his  conduct. 

But  there  was  one  in  the  company  that  evening 
who  contributed  nothing  to  the  discussion,  save  now 
and  then  a  word  in  defense  of  Dan.  And  everything 
that  Charity  said  was  instantly  and  warmly  endorsed 
by  the  Judge. 

When  Judge  and  Mrs.  Strong  at  last  bade  their 
friends  good  night  and  left  Nathaniel  and  his  wife 
to  cultivate  the  seed  the  Ally  had  so  skilfully 
planted,  Charity  retired  at  once  to  her  room,  but  not 
to  sleep.  Not  for  nothing  had  this  young  woman 
been  reared  in  such  close  touch  with  the  inner  circle 
of  the  ruling  classes  in  Memorial  Church.  This  was 
by  no  means  the  first  conference  of  its  kind  that  she 
had  been  permitted  to  attend.  Her  whole  life  experi 
ence  enabled  her  to  judge  to  a  day,  almost,  the  length 

267 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  any  minister's  stay  in  Corinth.  Few  had  stayed 
more  than  a  year. 

There  was  Rev.  Swanson — who  was  too  old;  and 
Rev.  Wilson — it  was  his  daughter;  and  Rev.  Jones 
— it  was  his  wife ;  and  Rev.  George — it  was  his  son ; 
and  it  was  Rev.  Kern — who  did  not  get  on  with  the 
young  people;  and' Rev.  Holmes — who  was  too 
young,  and  got  on  with  the  young  people  too  well. 
Charity  always  thought  that  she  might  have — .  If 
he  had  only  been  permitted  to  stay  another  three 
months!  And  Rev.  Colby — it  was  because  he  had 
neither  wife  nor  sons  nor  daughters.  Charity  was 
sure  she  might  have — .  If  only  he  had  been  given 
more  time !  And  now — Dan ! 

The  poor  girl  cried  bitterly  in  the  dark  and  in  her 
tears  determined  upon  desperate  measures. 


268 


OHAPTEK  XXXI. 

THE  REALITY. 

"'Faith/  said  Deborah,  who.  in  the  kitchen,  heard  their 
merry  talk  and  laughter.  'It  must  be  the  garden  as  does  it/  " 

"Who  shall  say  that  the  Irishwoman  had  not  the  truth  of 
the  whole  matter?" 

|  HE  incident  of  Deborah's  trouble  brought 
Hope  to  a  fuller  dependence  upon  Dan  than 
she  had  ever  before  known.  The  long  ride 
alone  in  the  hack,  with  her  mind  so  filled  with 
thoughts  of  her  big  friend,  his  greeting  of  her  and 
his  quick  response  to  her  appeal  in  Deborah's  behalf, 
with  the  drive  home  in  the  night  by  his  side,  and  the 
immediate  success  of  his  call  upon  the  Judge  had  all 
led  the  young  woman  much  nearer  a  full  realization 
of  herself  and  a  complete  understanding  of  her  feel 
ing  for  Dan  than  she  knew.  But  one  touch  more 
was  needed  to  make  the  possibility  which  she  had 
long  foreseen  a  reality. 

The  touch  needed  came  early  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  day  following  the  Judge's  call  upon  Elder  Jordan. 
Miss  Farwell,  with  Grace  and  Denny,  was  in  the 
garden,  making  ready  for  the  first  early  seed.  At 
Dan's  urgent  request  a  much  larger  space  had  been 
prepared  this  year  and  they  were  all  intensely  inter 
ested  in  what  was  to  be,  they  declared,  the  best  and 
largest  garden  that  Denny  had  ever  grown. 

269 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Denny  with  his  useless,  twisted  arm  swinging  at 
his  side,  and  his  poor,  dragging  leg,  was  marking  off 
the  beds  and  rows,  the  while  he  kept  up  a  ceaseless, 
merry  chatter  with  the  two  young  women  who  as 
sisted  him  by  carrying  the  stakes  and  lines. 

Any  one  would  have  thought  they  were  the  hap 
piest  people  in  all  Corinth,  and  perhaps  they  were, 
though  from  all  usual  standards  they  had  little 
enough  to  be  joyous  over.  Denny  with  his  poor, 
crippled  body,  forever  barred  from  the  life  his  whole 
soul  craved,  yearning  for  books  and  study  with  all 
his  heart,  but  forced  to  give  the  last  atom  of  his  poor 
strength  in  digging  in  the  soil  for  the  bare  necessities 
of  life,  denied  even  a  pittance  to  spend  for  the  vol 
umes  he  loved;  Grace  Conner  marred  in  spirit  and 
mind,  as  was  Denny  in  body,  by  the  cruel,  unjust 
treatment  of  those  to  whom  she  had  a  right  to  look 
first  for  sympathy  and  help ;  and  the  nurse,  who  was 
sacrificing  a  successful  and  remunerative  career  in 
the  profession  she  loved,  to  carry  the  burden  of  this 
one,  who  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  had  no  claim 
whatever  upon  her.  What  had  they  to  be  joyous 
over  that  sunny  afternoon  in  the  garden? 

"Faith,"  said  Deborah,  who,  in  the  kitchen,  heard 
their  merry  talk  and  laughter.  "It  must  be  the 
garden  as  does  it." 

Who  shall  say  that  the  Irishwoman  had  not  the 
truth  of  the  whole  matter  ? 

The  three  merry  workers  were  expecting  Dan. 
But  Dan  did  not  come.  And  it  may  have  been  be 
cause  Hope  turned  her  eyes  so  often  toward  the  cor 
ner  window,  that  she  failed  to  see  the  young  woman 

270 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

who  turned  in  at  their  own  gate.  Then  Deborah's 
voice  called  from  the  kitchen  for  Miss  Hope,  and  the 
nurse  went  into  the  house. 

"It's  someone  to  see  you,"  said  the  widow  with  an 
air  of  great  mystery.  "I  tuck  her  into  your  room, 
where  she's  waitin'  for  you.  Dear  heart,  but  the 
day  has  brung  the  roses  to  your  cheeks,  and  the  sun 
shine  is  in  your  two  eyes.  Sure,  I  can't  think  what 
she'd  be  wantin'.  I  hope  'tis  nothin'  to  make  ye  the 
less  happy  than  ye  are." 

"Oh  you,  with  your  blarney!"  returned  the  young 
woman  playfully,  and  then,  with  a  note  of  eagerness 
in  her  voice,  "Who  is  it,  do  you  know  her  ?" 

"Sure  I  do,  and  so  will  you  when  you  see  her.  Go 
on  in  child;  don't  be  standin'  here,  maybe  it's  the 
job  you've  been  lookin'  for  come  at  last.  I  can't 
think  that  any  of  them  would  be  sendin'  for  you, 
though  the  good  Lord  knows  the  poor  creature  her 
self  looks  to  need  a  nurse  or  somethin'." 

She  pushed  Hope  from  the  kitchen,  and  a  moment 
later  the  young  woman  entered  her  own  room  to  find 
Miss  Charity  Jordan. 

Hope  Farwell  was  a  beautiful  woman — beautiful 
with  the  beauty  of  a  womanhood  unspoiled  by  vain 
idleness,  empty  pleasures  or  purposeless  activity. 
Perhaps  because  of  her  interest  and  care  for  the  girl, 
to  whom  she  was  filling  the  place  of  both  mother  and 
elder  sister,  perhaps  because  of  something  else  that 
had  come  into  her  life — the  past  few  months,  in  spite 
of  her  trials,  had  added  much  to  that  sweet  atmos 
phere  of  womanliness  that  enveloped  her  always.  The 
deep,  gray  eyes  seemed  deeper  still  and  a  light  was 

271 


THE  CALLHSTG  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

in  their  depths  that  had  not  been  there  before.  In 
her  voice,  too,  there  was  a  new  note — a  richer,  fuller 
tone,  and  she  moved  and  laughed  as  one  whose  soul 
was  filled  with  the  best  joys  of  living. 

Charity  arose  to  her  feet  when  Miss  Farwell  en 
tered.  The  nurse  greeted  her,  but  the  poor  girl  who 
had  spent  an  almost  sleepless  night,  stood  regarding 
the  woman  before  her  with  a  kind  of  envying  wonder. 
What  right  had  this  creature  to  be  so  happy  while  she 
a  Christian  was  so  miserable  ? 

To  Charity  there  were  only  two  kinds  of  people — 
those  who  belonged  to  the  church  and  those  who  be 
longed  to  the  world.  Those  of  the  world  were 
strangers — aliens.  The  life  they  lived,  their  pleas 
ures,  their  ambitions,  their  loves,  were  all  matters 
of  conjecture  to  this  daughter  of  the  church.  They 
were,  to  her,  people  to  save — never  people  to  be  inti 
mate  with;  nor  were  they  to  be  regarded  without 
grave  suspicion  until  they  were  naved.  She  won 
der  od,  sometimes,  what  they  were  like  if  one  were  to 
really  know  them.  As  she  had  thought  about  it  the 
night  before  in  the  dark,  it  was  a  monstrous  thing 
that  a  woman  of  this  other  world  should  have  en 
snared  their  minister-  -her  minister. 

Charity  was  a  judge  of  preachers.  She  saw  in 
Dan  the  ability  to  go  far.  She  felt  that  no  position 
in  the  church  was  too  high  for  him  to  reach,  no 
honor  too  great  for  him  to  attain,  if  only  he  might 
be  steadied  and  inspired  and  assisted  by  a  competent 
helper — one  thoroughly  familiar  with  every  detail  of 
the  denominational  machinery,  and  acquainted  with 
every  denominational  engineer. 

272 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Thus  to  be  robbed  of  the  high  place  in  life  for 
which  she  had  fitted  herself,  and  to  which  she  had 
aspired  for  years,  by  an  alien  to  the  church  was 
maddening — if  only  Charity  had  possessed  the  ca 
pacity  for  being  maddened.  What  right  had  this 
creature  who  never  entered  a  church — what  right  had 
she  even  to  the  friendship  of  a  minister — a  minister 
such  as  Dan  ?  And  to  ruin  his  reputation !  To  cause 
him  to  be  sent  away  from  Corinth!  To  wreck  his 
career!  To  deprive  him  of  a  companion  so  fitly 
qualified  to  help  him  realize  to  the  full  his  splendid 
ambition!  Small  wonder  that  the  daughter  of  the 
church  had  determined  upon  a  desperate  measure. 

Left  alone  when  Deborah  had  gone  to  call  Miss 
Farwell,  Charity  had  examined  the  nurse's  room 
with  interest  and  surprise.  The  apartment  bore  no 
testimony  to  an  unholy  life.  Save  that  it  was  in 
every  way  a  poorer  place  than  any  room  in  the  Jor 
dan  house,  it  might  have  been  Charity's  own.  There 
was  even  a  Bible,  well  worn  at  that,  lying  on  a  table 
by  which  a  chair  was  drawn  as  if  the  reader  had  but 
just  laid  the  book  aside. 

And  now  this  woman  stood  before  her.  This 
woman  with  the  deep,  kind  eyes,  the  soft,  calm  voice, 
her  cheeks  glowing  with  healthful  outdoor  exercise, 
and  her  air  of  sweet  womanliness. 

The  nurse  spoke  the  second  time. 

"I  am  Miss  Farwell.  You  are  Miss  Jordan,  I 
believe.  I  see  you  pass  the  house  frequently.  Won't 
you  be  seated,  please,  you  seem  to  be  in  trouble." 

Poor  Charity !  Dropping  weakly  into  a  chair  she 
burst  into  bitter  tears.  Then  before  Miss  Farwell 

273 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

could  recover  from  her  surprise,  the  caller  exclaimed, 
"I  came  to  see  you  about  our  minister,  Reverend 
Matthews." 

The  color  in  the  nurse's  cheeks  deepened. 

"But  why  should  you  come  to  me  about  Mr.  Mat 
thews  ?  I  know  nothing  of  your  church  affairs,  Miss 
Jordan." 

"I  know  that  you  do  not,"  the  other  returned  bit 
terly.  "You  have  never  been  to  hear  him  preach. 
You  know  nothing — nothing  of  what  it  means  to 
him — to  me,  to  all  of  us,  I  mean.  How  could  you 
know  anything  about  it?" 

This  passionate  outburst  and  the  sight  of  Charity's 
crimson  face  and  embarrassed  manner  caused  the 
color  to  disappear  from  the  nurse's  cheeks.  After  a 
moment  she  said  coolly,  "Do  you  not  think  it  would 
be  well  for  you  to  explain  clearly  just  what  you  mean 
and  why  you  come  to  me  ?" 

In  her  effort  to  explain  Charity's  words  came 
tumbling  recklessly,  impetuously  out,  in  all  sorts  of 
disorder.  She  charged  the  nurse  with  ruining  the 
minister's  work,  with  alienating  him  from  his  people, 
with  injuring  the  Memorial  Church  and  the  cause 
of  Christ  in  Corinth,  with  making  him  the  talk  of 
the  town. 

"What  is  he  to  you,"  she  finished.  "What  can  he 
ever  be  to  you?  You  would  not  dare  to  think  of 
marrying  a  minister  of  the  gospel — you  a  woman  of 
the  world.  He  belongs  to  us,  he  does  not  belong  to 
you,  and  you  have  no  right  to  take  him  from  us." 
Then  she  pleaded  with  her  to — as  she  put  it — let 
their  pastor  alone,  to  permit  him  to  stay  in  Corinth 

274 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  go  on  to  the  great  future  that  she  was  so  sure 
awaited  him. 

As  the  girl  talked  the  other  woman  sat  very  still 
with  downcast  face,  save  now  and  then  when  Char 
ity's  disordered  words  seemed  to  carry  a  deeper 
meaning  than  appeared  upon  the  surface.  Then 
the  gray  eyes  were  lifted  to  study  the  speaker's  face, 
doubtfully,  wonderingly,  questioningly. 

In  her  painful  excitement  Charity  was  telling 
much  more  than  she  realized.  And  more,  Charity 
was  not  only  laying  bare  her  own  heart  to  the  nurse, 
but  she  was  revealing  Hope  Farwell  to  herself.  That 
young  woman  was  stirred  as  she  had  never  been 
before. 

When  her  visitor  had  talked  herself  out  the  nurse 
said  quietly,  "Miss  Jordan,  it  is  not  at  all  necessary 
that  I  should  reply  to  the  things  you  have  said,  but 
you  must  answer  me  one  question.  Has  Mr.  Mat 
thews  ever,  either  by  word  or  by  his  mariner  to 
wards  you,  given  you  reason  to  feel  that  you,  per 
sonally,  have  any  right  whatever  to  say  these  things 
to  me  ?" 

It  was  so  frank,  so  direct,  and  withal  so  womanly 
and  kind,  and  so  unexpected — that  Charity  hung 
her  head. 

"Tell  me  please,  Miss  Jordan.  After  all  that  you 
have  said,  you  must." 

The  answer  came  in  a  whisper.    "No." 

"Thank  you."  There  was  that  in  the  nurse's  voice 
that  left  the  other's  heart  hopeless,  and  robbed  her  of 
power  to  say  more.  She  rose  and  moved  toward  the 
door. 

275 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  nurse  accompanied  her  to  the  porch.  "Miss 
Jordan."  Charity  paused.  "I  am  very  sorry.  I 
fear  you  will  never  understand  how — how  mistaken 
you  are.  I — I  shall  not  harm  either  your  church  or 
— your  minister.  Believe  me,  I  am  very,  very 
sorry." 

Miss  Farwell  could  not  return  to  the  garden.  He 
would  be  there.  She  could  not  meet  him  just  yet. 
She  must  be  alone.  She  must  go  somewhere  to 
think  this  thing  out. 

Stealing  from  the  house,  she  slipped  away  down 
the  street.  Without  her  conscious  will,  her  feet  led 
her  toward  the  open  country,  to  Academy  Hill, 
to  the  grassy  knoll  under  the  oak  in  the  old  Academy 
yard. 

The  possibility  had  become  a  reality,  and  all  the 
pain  that  she  had  foreseen,  was  hers.  But  with  the 
pain  was  a  great  gladness. 

Miss  Farwell  need  not  have  fled  from  meeting  Dan 
in  the  garden  that  afternoon.  Dan  was  not  in  the 
garden.  While  the  nurse,  in  her  room,  was  greeting 
Miss  Charity,  Elder  Jordan,  who  had  stopped  on  his 
way  home  from  the  post  office  was  knocking  at  the 
door  of  the  minister's  study. 


276 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  BARRIER. 

"As  he  looked  at  the  figure  so  immovable,  so  hideously 
rigid  and  fixed  in  the  act  of  proclaiming  an  issue  that  be 
longed  to  a  dead  age,  he  felt  as  if  his  heart  would  burst  with 
wild  rage  at  the  whole  community,  people  and  church." 

HE  Elder's  visit  to  Dan  was  prompted  not 
alone  by  the  church  situation,  as  he  had 
come  to  look  upon  it  in  the  conference  with 
Judge  Strong  the  evening  before,  but  by  the  old 
man's  regard  for  the  young  minister  himself.  Be 
cause  of  this  he  had  said  nothing  to  his  brother 
official  of  his  purpose,  wishing  to  make  his  visit 
something  more  than  an  official  call  in  the  interest 
of  the  church.  Nathaniel  felt  that  alone  he  could 
talk  to  Dan  in  a  way  that  would  have  been  impossible 
in  the  presence  of  Judge  Strong,  and  in  this  he  was 
not  mistaken. 

In  the  months  of  his  work  in  Corinth,  Dan  had 
learned  to  love  this  old  church  father,  whose  faith 
fulness  to  the  dead  past  and  to  the  obsolete  doctrines 
of  his  denomination,  was  so  large  an  element  in  his 
religion.  It  was  impossible  not  to  recognize  that,  so 
far  as  the  claims  of  his  creed  would  permit,  Elder 
Jordan  was  a  true  Christian  man — gentle,  tolerant, 
kind  in  all  things,  outside  the  peculiar  doctrine  of 
the  founders  of  his  sect. 

277 


THE  CALLING  OF  DA^  MATTHEWS 

It  was  impossible  for  the  minister  and  his  Elder 
to  see  life  from  the  same  point  of  view.  They  be 
longed  to  different  ages.  The  younger  man,  recog 
nizing  this,  honored  his  elder  brother  for  his  fidelity 
to  the  faith  of  his  fathers,  and  saw  in  this  very  faith, 
a  virtue  to  admire.  But  the  older  man  saw  in  Dan's 
broader  views  and  neglect  of  the  issues  that  belonged 
to  the  past  age,  a  weakness  of  Christian  character — 
to  be  overcome  if  possible,  but  on  no  ground  to  be 
tolerated,  lest  the  very  foundation  of  the  church  be 
sapped. 

Elder  Jordan's  regard  for  Dan  was  wholly  per 
sonal,  entirely  aside  from  the  things  of  the  church. 
The  Elder  was  capable  of  sacrificing  his  own  daugh 
ter  if,  in  his  judgment,  it  was  necessary  for  the  good 
of  the  cause,  but  he  would  not  have  loved  her  the  less. 
There  was  that  inhuman  something  in  his  religion 
that  has  always  made  religion  a  thing  of  schools  and 
churches,  rather  than  a  thing  of  farms  and  shops ;  a 
thing  of  set  days,  of  forms,  rites,  ceremonies,  beliefs 
— rather  than  a  thing  of  everyday  living  and  the 
commonplace,  individual  duties,  pleasures  and  drudg 
eries  of  life. 

The  old  churchman  did  not  spare  Dan  that  after 
noon.  Very  clearly  he  forced  the  minister  to  see 
the  situation,  making  him  understand  the  significance 
of  the  gossip  that  had  been  revived,  and  the  growing 
dissatisfaction  of  the  church  leaders  with  his  ser 
mons.  Dan  listened  quietly,  with  no  lack  of  respect 
for  the  man  who  talked  to  him  so  plainly — for,  under 
the  sometimes  harsh  words,  he  felt  always  the  true 
spirit  of  the  speaker  and  his  kindly  regard. 

278 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

Touching  his  preaching  Dan  could  make  no  reply, 
for  he  realized  how  impossible  it  was  for  the  Elder 
to  change  his  point  of  view.  The  young  minister 
had,  indeed,  neglected  the  things  that,  to  the  Elder 
and  his  kind,  were  the  vital  things.  That  he  had 
taught  the  truths  that  to  him  seemed  most  vital  made 
no  difference  in  the  situation.  The  fact  remained 
that  he  was  the  hired  servant  of  Memorial  Church 
and  was  not  employed  by  that  body  to  preach  what  he 
considered  the  most  vital  truths. 

But  touching  his  friendship  with  the  nurse,  Dan 
spoke  warmly  in  defense  of  the  young  woman — of 
himself  he  said  nothing.  As  the  Elder  listened,  he 
thought  he  saw  how  Dan  had  been  influenced  in  his 
ministry  by  this  woman  who  was  not  of  the  church, 
and  the  idea  that  had  sent  Charity  to  Miss  Farwell 
took  possession  of  him.  Even  as  his  daughter  pleaded 
with  the  nurse  to  set  the  minister  free,  Nathaniel 
pleaded  with  Dan  to  free  himself.  Inevitably  the  re- 
eults  were  exactly  the  same. 

"Think  of  your  ministry,  my  boy,"  urged  the  old 
man,  "of  the  sacred  duties  of  your  office.  Your  atti 
tude  towards  this  woman  has  been,  in  every  way,  just 
what  the  people  expect  the  conduct  of  a  man  to  be 
toward  the  one  he  is  seeking  to  make  his  wife.  Yet 
no  one  for  a  moment  thinks  you  expect  to  marry  this 
woman,  who  is  known  to  be  an  alien  to  the  church. 
What  success  could  you  hope  to  have  as  a  minister 
if  you  take  to  wife  one  who  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  your  church  ?  What  right  have  you,  then,  to  be 
so  intimate  with  her,  to  seek  her  company  so  con 
stantly  ?  Granting  all  that  you  say  of  her  character, 

279 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

and  all  that  Dr.  Miles  has  written,  why  does  she  stay 
in  Corinth,  where  no  one  will  employ  her,  when  she 
could  so  easily  return  to  her  work  in  the  city,  taking 
that  Conner  girl  with  her  ?" 

Dan  could  find  no  words  to  answer  the  Elder. 
He  was  stunned  by  the  situation  to  which  he  had 
been  so  suddenly  awakened  by  the  old  man's  plain 
words.  But  there  were  elements  in  the  problem  un 
known  to  Nathaniel  Jordan,  though  the  old  man  felt 
that  somehow  his  lance  had  gone  deeper  than  he 
intended. 

When  the  Elder  was  gone  Dan's  mind  and  heart 
clutched  those  words,  "No  one  believes  for  a  moment 
that  you  expect  to  marry  this  woman." 

"To  marry  this  woman — to  marry — to  marry!" 
He  thought  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  their  per 
fect  companionship.  "What  right  have  you  in  this 
case,  to  be  so  intimate  with  her,  to  seek  her  company 
so  constantly  ?" 

He  started  to  go  to  the  window  that  looks  down  on 
the  garden,  thinking  to  see  her  there,  but  checked  him 
self.  He  knew  now  why  the  garden  had  grown  to 
mean  so  much  to  him.  He  tried  to  realize  what  his 
life  would  be  without  this  woman  who  had  so  grown 
into  it. 

Dan  Matthews  was  no  weakling  who  could  amuse 
himself  with  a  hundred  imitation  love  affairs.  In 
his  veins  ran  the  fierce,  red  blood  of  a  strong  race 
that  had  ruled  by  the  simple  strength  of  manhood 
their  half-wild  mountain  wilderness.  As  the  tiny 
stream,  flowing  quietly  through  peaceful  meadow, 
still  woodland,  and  sunny  pasture — growing  always 

280 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

broader  and  deeper  as  it  runs — is  unconscious  of  its 
quiet  power  until  checked  by  some  barrier,  and  ris 
ing,  swelling  to  a  mighty  flood — seeks  to  clear  its 
path;  so  Dan's  love  had  grown.  In  the  fields  of 
friendship  it  had  gained  always  depth  and  power 
until  now — coming  to  the  barrier — it  rose  in  all  its 
strength — a  flood  of  passion  that  shook  every  nerve 
and  fibre  of  the  man's  being,  a  mighty  force  that 
would  not  be  denied. 

Going  to  the  other  window  he  saw  the  cast-iron 
monument.  And  as  he  looked  at  the  figure  so  im 
movable,  so  hideously  rigid  and  fixed  in  the  act  of 
proclaiming  an  issue  that  belonged  to  a  dead  age,  he 
felt  as  if  his  heart  would  burst  with  wild  rage  at  the 
whole  community,  people  and  church. 

"What  right  had  he  to  the  companionship  of  this 
woman  ?" 

"The  right  that  God  has  given  to  every  man — nay 
to  every  beast  and  bird — the  right  to  seek  his  mate; 
the  right  of  the  future.  What  right,  indeed,  had 
anyone  to  challenge  him,  to  say  that  he  should  not 
win  her  if  he  could  ?  If  he  could — " 

As  suddenly  as  the  rage  had  come  it  left  him,  and 
he  shrank  hopeless  within  himself,  cowering  before 
the  thought  of  his  position  in  life,  and  of  her  attitude 
toward  the  church  and  its  ministers. 

"The  Elder  and  his  people  need  give  themselves 
no  uneasiness,"  he  thought.  "The  barrier  was  too 
well-built  to  be  swept  aside  by  love  of  man  and 
woman." 

He  saw  that  now,  even  the  old  friendship  be 
tween  them  would  be  impossible.  He  wondered  if 

281 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

his  going  out  of  her  life  would  make  any  ripple  in 
its  calm,  even  current ;  if  she  would  care  very  much  ? 

The  Elder  had  asked,  "Why  has  she  remained  in 
Corinth  ?" 

"Could  it  be — No,  no !  That  would  be  too  much. 
It  was  her  interest  in  Grace  Conner  alone  that  held 
her." 

So  Big  Dan  faced  this  thing  against  which  the 
very  strength  of  his  manhood  was  his  greatest  weak 
ness,  and  facing  it  he,  too,  was  afraid  to  go  into  the 
garden — as  he  thought — to  meet  her.  He  must  gain 
a  little  self-control  first.  He  must  grow  better  ac 
quainted  with  this  thing  that  had  come  upon  him  so 
quickly. 

Following  the  instinct  of  his  ancestors  to  face 
trouble  in  the  open,  he,  too,  set  out,  bound  for  a  long 
tramp  across  the  country.  Perhaps  he  would  go  as 
far  even  as  John  Gardner's,  and  spend  the  night 
there.  He  went  up  the  street  for  a  block  before 
turning  north,  lest  his  friends  in  the  garden  hail  him. 
Then  walking  quickly  he  pushed  on  towards  the  out 
skirts  of  town,  on  the  old  Academy  Hill  road. 


282 


CHAPTEE  XXXm. 

HEARTS'  TRAGEDIES. 

"So  she  sent  him  away  to  fight  his  battle  alone,  knowing 
it  was  the  only  way  such  a  battle  could  be  rightly  fought." 

HEX  Miss  Farwell,  under  the  oak  tree  in  the 
Academy  yard,  turned  her  eyes  from  the  far 
blue  roll  of  hills  to  see  Dan  Matthews  com 
ing  through  the  gap  in  the  tumble-down  fence,  it  was 
as  if  he  had  appeared  in  answer  to  her  thoughts,  and 
the  intensity  of  her  emotions  at  the  moment,  fright 
ened  her. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  escape.  Then  she  sat 
still,  watching  him  as  if  fascinated,  while  her  trem 
bling  fingers  picked  at  the  young  grass  by  her  side. 
With  his  face  turned  toward  the  valley  below,  Dan 
came  slowly  across  the  weed-grown  yard,  unconscious 
of  the  presence  of  the  young  woman  on  the  knoll. 
Then  he  looked  in  her  direction.  With  her  face 
turned  quickly  half-aside,  she  saw  him  stop  suddenly 
as  if  halted  by  the  same  feeling  that  had  so  moved 
her. 

For  a  full  minute  he  stood  there  as  if  questioning 
his  senses.  The  girl  sat  very  still.  Once  she  thought 
he  would  turn  back — then  he  came  on  eagerly,  as  he 
had  come  that  day  from  the  water  when  he  had  looked 
up  to  see  her  on  the  river  bank.  And  then  he  stood 

283 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

before  her  as  he  had  stood  that  other  day  long  weeks 
ago,  with  the  sunlight  on  his  red-brown  hair. 

There  was  now  no  word  of  formal  greeting.  None 
was  needed.  Each  seemingly  knew  the  travail  of 
soul  of  the  other. 

Dropping  down  on  the  grass  by  her  side  he  said 
quietly,  as  if  it  were  unnecessary  that  he  should 
speak  at  all,  "I  thought  you  were  in  the  garden  this 
afternoon." 

"And  I  thought  you  were  in  the  garden,"  she  re 
turned. 

He  looked  at  her  in  wondering  gladness,  saying, 
"I  had  a  caller.  After  that  I  could  not  go." 

"And  I — I  too  had  a  caller ;  and  after  that  I — I 
could  not  go."  The  words  were  spoken  almost  in  a 
whisper.  Her  trembling  fingers  were  picking  again 
at  the  short  young  grass ;  she  was  looking  far  away 
beyond  the  sweeping  line  of  blue.  One  foot  had 
slipped  a  little  from  under  the  protecting  shelter  of 
the  blue  skirt.  He  saw  with  a  flush  of  anger  that  the 
shoe  was  very  shabby.  The  skirt,  too,  showed  unmis 
takable  signs  of  wear.  He  controlled  himself  with 
difficulty,  saying,  "Your  caller  was — ?" 

"Miss  Charity  Jordan.     And  yours?" 

"Elder  Jordan."  Dan  looked  away,  ana  when  he 
spoke  again  he  said  bitterly,  "Then  I  suppose  you 
know?" 

At  his  tone  and  manner  she  turned  her  face  quickly 
to  his,  permitting  him  for  the  first  time  to  search  her 
eyes.  It  was  as  if  she  wanted  to  comfort  him,  to 
reassure  him. 


284 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Yes  I"  she  said  softly,  gladly,  triumphantly,  "Yes, 
I  know!" 

Something  in  her  confident  reply  caused  the  min 
ister  to  forget  all  his  half-formed  resolutions.  His 
work,  his  life,  the  possible  outcome,  the  world  itself — 
were  lost  in  the  overpowering  rush  of  the  passion- 
flood  that  swept  his  being.  His  deep  voice  trembled. 
"Then  you  know  that  I  love  you — love  you!" 

He  repeated  the  simple  words  as  if  laying  his 
whole  self — body,  soul  and  spirit,  at  her  feet. 

And  the  woman,  in  very  wonder  at  the  fullness  of 
the  offering,  was  as  one  transfixed  and  could  find  no 
word  fit  to  express  her  acceptance  of  the  gift. 

"It  is  my  right  to  tell  you  this,"  he  said  proudly — 
defiantly  almost,  as  though  challenging  some  unseen 
spirit  or  power.  "And  it  is  your  right  to  answer 
me." 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "it  is  our  right." 

"Then  you  do  care  for  me,  Hope  ?  I  am  not  mis 
taken — you  do?" 

"Can  you  doubt  it?"  she  asked. 

He  moved  quickly  toward  her  but  she  checked 
him,  and  while  the  love  in  her  eyes  answered  to  the 
mastering  passion  in  his,  she  seemed  in  some  subtle 
manner  to  build  up  a  protecting  wall  between  them,  a 
wall  to  guard  them  both. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  he  faltered. 

"You  must  think,"  she  bade  him  quietly,  firmly. 
"Don't  you  see  that,  while  it  is  right  for  you  to  tell 
me  what  you  have,  and  right  for  me  to  tell  you  how 
proud — how  glad  your  words  have  made  me,  and  how 


285 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

with  all  my  heart  and  life  I — I — love  you,  this — ," 
her  voice  faltered  now,  "don't  you  see  that  this  must 
be  all  ?" 

"All  ?"  he  questioned. 

"All,"  she  answered.  "Everything  that  I  said  to 
you  the  first  day  that  we  met  here  is  still  true.  Don't 
you  see  that  I  can  never,  never  be  more  to  you  than 
I  am  now?" 

As  one  who  hears  himself  sentenced  to  life-exile 
Big  Dan  dropped  his  head,  burying  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

And  seeing  him'  so,  such  a  figure  of  helpless 
strength,  the  woman's  gray  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
that  were  not  yet  permitted  to  fall.  In  his  presence 
she  would  be  strong — afterwards  her  own  heart 
should  have  its  way. 

Once  her  hand  went  out  slowly  towards  the  shaggy 
red-brown  hair,  but  was  silently  withdrawn,  and  the 
trembling  white  fingers  again  plucked  the  young 
blades  of  grass. 

So  they  sat,  these  two — face  to  face  with  their 
hearts'  tragedy,  each — for  the  other's  sake — striving 
to  be  strong. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said  at  last,  raising  his  head  but  not 
looking  her  in  the  face,  and  speaking  in  tones  that 
were  strained  and  hard,  "if  I  were  anything  else,  if 
I  were  engaged  in  any  other  work,  would  you  be  my 
wife?" 

"Why  do  you  ask  that  ?" 

"Because  I  must  know"  he  answered  almost 
harshly. 

"If  you  were  a  common  laborer,  a  business  or  pro- 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

fessional  man,  if  your  work  was  anything  honorable 
and  right,  save  what  it  is — yes,  gladly;  oh,  how 
gladly!" 

"Then,"  he  burst  forth  hotly,  "I  will  give  up  my 
work.  I  will  be  something  else !" 

"You  would  give  up  your  ministry  for  me?"  she 
questioned  doubtfully ;  "your  chosen  life  work  ?" 

His  voice  sank  to  a  hoarse  whisper.  "Yes,  and  if 
it  need  be — my  religion,  my  God." 

As  he  finished  speaking  she  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm.  "Hush,  oh  hush!  That  is  not  worthy  of  you; 
it  is  not  true  to  our  love.  You  are  beside  yourself." 

He  continued  eagerly,  "But  I  have  learned  that 
other  work  is  just  as  holy,  just  as  sacred,  as  the 
work  of  the  preacher  and  the  church.  You  do  not 
know  how  in  the  past  months  I  have  been  teaching 
this.  Why  should  I  not  give  my  life  to  some  of  these 
other  ministries?" 

"Because  it  is  not  some  other  work  that  calls  you 
now.  These  other  ministries  are  not  yours,"  she 
answered  gently.  "I  have  learned  to  love  you  be 
cause  you  are  so  truly  yourself,  because  you  are  so 
true  to  yourself.  You  must  not  disappoint  me  now. 
And  you  will  not,"  she  continued  confidently,  "I 
know  that  you  will  not." 

At  last  when  he  had  argued,  protested  and  pleaded 
until  she  was  so  beset  by  both  his  passion  and  her  own 
that  she  felt  her  strength  going,  she  said:  "Don't, 
oh  please  don't !  I  cannot  listen  to  more  of  this  now. 
It  is  not  fair  to  either  of  us.  You  must  have  time  to 
think  alone.  I  believe  I  know  you  even  better  than 
you  know  yourself.  You  must  leave  me  now.  You 

287 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

must  promise  that  you  will  not  try  to  see  me  again 
until  tomorrow  afternoon  at  this  same  hour.  I  will 
be  in  the  garden  with  the  others  until  four  o'clock, 
when  I  will  go  to  the  house  alone.  If  then  you  have 
decided  that  you  can,  with  all  truthfulness  to  your 
self  and  me,  give  up  your  ministry,  come  to  me  and 
I  will  be  your  wife.  But  whether  you  come  or  not 
you  must  always  believe  that  I  love  you,  that  I  shall 
always  love  you,  as  my  other  self,  and  that  I  shall 
never,  never  doubt  your  love  for  me." 

So  she  sent  him  away  to  fight  his  battle  alone, 
knowing  it  was  the  only  way  such  a  battle  could  be 
rightly  fought,  and  because  she  wanted  him,  for  his 
own  sake,  to  have  the  certainty  of  a  self -won  victory, 
never  doubting  in  her  own  heart  what  that  victory 
would  be  or  what  it  would  mean  to  her.  She  indeed 
knew  him  better  than  he  knew  himself. 


288 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

SACRIFICED. 

"Standing  in  the  midst  of  these  things,  so  mucn  a  part  of 
his  chosen  life  that  they  seemed  a  vital  part  of  himself,  he 
heard  the  voices  in  the  garden.** 

|LOXE  in  his  little  study — the  door  locked — 
Big  Dan  battled  with  himself.  Everywhere 
in  the  room  were  things  that  cried  aloud  to 
him  of  his  ministry;  his  library — books  of  peculiar 
interest  to  ministers,  papers  and  pamphlets  filled 
with  matters  of  the  church,  written  for  church  men, 
his  sermons — one  lying  half-finished  on  the  study 
table,  the  very  pictures  on  the  walls  and  the  un 
answered  letters  on  his  desk.  Standing  in  the  midst 
of  these  things,  so  much  a  part  of  his  chosen  life  that 
they  seemed  a  vital  part  of  himself,  he  heard  the 
voices  in  the  garden.  He  knew  that  she  was  there. 

Since  the  beginning  men  like  Dan  Matthews  have 
fought  for  women  like  Hope  Farwell.  For  such 
women  such  men  have  committed  every  crime,  en 
dured  every  hardship,  braved  every  danger,  made 
every  sacrifice,  accomplished  every  great  thing.  Few 
of  the  race  today  are  strong  enough  to  feel  such  pas 
sion.  It  was  primitive — but  it  was  more.  For 
there  had  been  bred  into  this  man  something  stronger 
than  his  giant  physical  strength — a  spirit,  a  purpose, 
fitting  such  a  body. 

289 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  little  clock  on  the  mantel  struck  the  hour. 
Softly,  slowly,  the  sweet-toned  notes  rang  out: 

One!    Two!    Three!    Four! 

With  face  white  and  drawn  Dan  went  to  the  win 
dow.  All  that  afternoon,  knowing  that  she  was 
there,  he  had  denied  himself  even  the  sight  of  her. 
Now  he  would  see  her. 

He  watched  as,  without  a  glance  toward  his  win 
dow,  the  young  woman  left  her  friends  and  went 
slowly  into  the  house.  Five — ten — fifteen — twenty 
minutes!  The  ticking  of  the  little  clock  seemed  to 
beat  on  Dan's  brain  with  sledge-hammer  blows. 

Then  he  saw  her  come  out  on  the  front  porch  of  the 
cottage.  Slowly  she  walked  out  into  the  yard,  until 
screened  from  the  street  by  the  big  lilac  bush.  Turn 
ing  she  faced  toward  his  window.  She  waved  a 
greeting.  She  even  beckoned  to  him  to  come.  The 
man  swayed  and  put  out  his  hand  to  grip  the  window 
casing.  Again  she  beckoned  him — come.  When  he 
did  not  leave  his  place  and  only  waved  a  hand  in 
return,  she  went  slowly  back  into  the  house. 

Then  Dan  Matthews,  minister — man,  staggered 
back  from  the  window  to  fall  on  his  knees  in  prayer. 

It  was  perhaps  two  hours  before  sunrise  when  Dr. 
Harry's  horse  stopped  suddenly  in  a  dark  stretch  of 
timber  six  miles  from  town.  Dimly  the  man  in  the 
buggy  saw  a  figure  coming  toward  him. 

"Hello !"  he  said  sharply ;  "what  do  you  want  ?" 

The  man  in  the  road  laughed  a  strange,  hoarse, 
mirthless  laugh,  saying  as  he  continued  to  advance, 
"I  thought  it  must  be  you.  You  nearly  ran  me 
down."  And  Dan  climbed  in  by  the  physician's  side. 

290 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAX  MATTHEWS 

The  minister  made  no  explanation,  nor  did  hia 
friend,  after  the  first  few  surprised  questions,  press 
him.  But  when  they  were  turning  in  towards  Dan's 
gate  the  big  fellow  burst  forth,  "Don't  stop,  Harry — 
not  here !  For  God's  sake,  if  you  love  me,  take  me 
on  to  your  house  for  a  little  while !" 

Then  did  Dr.  Harry  guess  the  truth  that  later  he 
came  to  know. 


291 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  TIE  THAT  BINDS. 

"The  Ally  was  there  in  power.  The  day  of  the  rack,  the 
thumbscrew  and  the  stake,  is  long  past:  in  place  of  these 
instruments  of  religious  discipline  we  have — the  Ally." 

LL  the  next  day  Dan  remained  at  Dr.  Harry's 
home,  returning  to  his  own  rooms  in  the 
evening.  Early  the  following  morning  he 
was  to  take  the  train  for  the  annual  gathering  of  the 
denomination,  that  was  to  be  held  in  a  distant  city. 
He  would  be  away  from  Corinth  three  days  at  least. 

The  minister's  little  study,  when  he  had  lighted 
the  lamp  that  night,  seemed  filled  with  a  spirit  that 
was  never  there  before.  It  was  as  if,  during  his 
absence,  some  unseen  presence  had  moved  in  to  share 
the  apartment  with  him.  The  very  books  and  papers 
impressed  him  as  intimate  companions,  as  if,  in  thus 
witnessing  and — in  truth — taking  part  in  the  soul- 
struggle  of  the  man,  they  had  entered  into  a  closer 
relation  to  him,  a  relation  sacred  and  holy.  He  was 
conscious,  too,  of  an  atmosphere  of  privacy  there  that 
he  had  never  sensed  before,  and,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  he  drew  the  window  shades. 

In  the  battle  that  Hope  Farwell  had  set  for  him  to 
fight  Dan  had  sought  to  be  frankly  honest  with  him 
self,  and  to  judge  himself  coldly,  without  regard  to 
the  demands  of  his  heart.  If  he  had  erred  at  all  it 

292 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

was  in  an  over-sensitiveness  to  conscience,  for  con 
science  has  ever  been  a  tricky  master,  often  betraying 
its  too-willing  slaves  to  their  own  self-injury.  It  is, 
a  large  question  whether  one  has  a  greater  right  to 
injure  himself  than  to  harm  another. 

Dan  could  not  admit,  even  to  himself,  that  he  had 
in  any  way  neglected  the  church,  or  fallen  short  of 
his  duties  as  a  hired  shepherd.  But  after  all,  was  he 
not  to  some  degree  in  error  in  his  judgment  of  his 
people?  Had  he  not,  perhaps,  misunderstood  the 
spirit  that  moved  them?  He  had  come  to  Corinth 
from  his  school  with  the  thought  fixed  in  his  mind 
that  the  church  was  all  right.  Had  he  not,  by  the 
unexpected  and  brutal  directness  of  his  experience, 
been  swung  to  the  other  extreme,  conceiving  con 
ditions  as  all  wrong? 

Groping  in  the  dark  of  his  ministry  he  had  come 
to  feel  more  and  more  keenly  his  inexperience.  After 
all,  was  he  right  in  taking  the  hard,  seldom-traveled 
path,  or  was  not  the  safe  way  of  the  church  fathers 
the  true  way?  Was  not  his  failure  to  put  himself 
in  tune  with  things  as  he  found  them,  only  his  own 
inability  to  grasp  the  deeper  meanings  of  those 
things  ?  He  had  come  to  doubt  those  leaders  whom  he 
had  been  taught  to  follow,  but  he  had  come  to  doubt 
more  his  own  ability  to  lead,  or  even  to  find  the  way 
for  himself.  It  was  this  doubt  that  had  led  him  to 
decide  as  Hope  Farwell  knew  he  would. 

For  Big  Dan  could  not  turn  from  the  church  and 
his  chosen  work  without  the  same  certainty  that  had 
led  him  to  it. 

Least  of  all  could  he,  after  that  which  Hope  had 

293 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

made  so  clear,  go  to  her  with  a  shadow  of  doubt  in  his 
mind. 

His  convictions  were  not,  as  yet,  convincing.  His 
new-born  love  for  the  woman  bulked  too  large  in  his 
life  for  him  to  trust  his  own  motives.  So  it  came 
that  he  had  chosen  at  such  cost  to  himself,  and — 
making  the  greatest  sacrifice  possible  to  one  of  his 
nature — turned  to  give  himself  wholly  to  that  which 
he  still  felt  to  be  his  ministry. 

He  looked  forward  now  with  eagerness  to  the 
gathering  of  church  men  to  which  he  was  going  on 
the  morrow.  There  he  would  meet  the  great  leaders 
of  his  church,  those  with  life-long  experience  in  the 
work  to  which  he  had  given  himself;  those  whose 
names  were  household  names  in  the  homes  of  his 
people.  There  he  would  come  into  touch  with  the 
spirit  of  the  church  as  a  whole,  not  merely  the  spirit 
of  his  own  local  congregation,  and  in  the  deliberations 
of  the  convention,  in  their  reports  of  work  accom 
plished,  of  conditions  throughout  the  country,  and  in 
the  plans  for  work  to  be  done,  he  would  find — he 
must  find — the  key  that  would  put  him  in  full  har 
mony  with  those  who  were  his  fellow-workers. 

Dan's  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  a  familiar 
knock  at  the  door.  The  old  Doctor  entered. 

Of  the  recently-renewed  talk  of  the  community 
regarding  Dan  and  Hope,  and  of  the  growing  senti 
ment  of  Memorial  Church  the  Doctor  knew  all  that 
Dan  knew — with  this  more.  From  long  observation 
he  understood,  as  Dan  did  not,  the  real  significance 
of  this  revival  of  activities  by  the  Ally,  and  the  part 
that  Judge  Strong  had  in  its  inspiration.  Concern- 

294 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ing  Dan  and  Hope  he  could  only  conjecture,  but  the 
Doctor's  conjectures  amounted  almost  to  certainties. 
That  the  lad  so  dear  to  him  was  passing  through  some 
tremendous  crisis  he  knew,  for  he  had  talked  with 
Dr.  Harry  that  afternoon.  Seeing  by  the  light  in 
the  window  that  Dan  had  returned,  he  had  run 
across  the  way  to  see  if  all  was  well  with  the  boy.  It 
was  characteristic  of  the  Doctor  that,  while  he  did 
not  make  known  the  object  of  his  visit  in  words,  he 
made  the  minister  feel  his  sympathy  and  interest,  and 
his  readiness,  as  he  himself  would  have  said,  "to 
stand  by." 

Grasping  his  young  friend's  hand  in  greeting  and 
placing  his  other  hand  on  Dan's  shoulder,  he  studied 
his  face  as  he  would  have  studied  a  patient.  "Come 
boy,"  he  said,  "don't  you  think  we  better  go  fishing  ?" 

The  minister  smiled  back  at  him.  "I  wish  I 
could,  Doctor;  I  need  it,  all  right.  But  you  see 
there's  that  convention  tomorrow." 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  Doctor,  as  he  seated  him 
self.  "Heard  who's  going?" 

Dan  named  a  few  of  his  church  people.  The 
Doctor  grunted  again.  They  were  nearly  all  of  the 
inner  circle,  the  Judge's  confidantes  in  matters  of 
the  church. 

"Judge  Strong  is  going  too,"  offered  the  Doctor. 

Dan  said  nothing. 

"Uh-huh;  told  me  this  evening."  The  old  man 
chuckled.  "I  rather  thought  I'd  go  myself." 

"You!"  Dan  said  in  surprise. 

The  other's  eyes  twinkled.  "Yes,  me ;  why  not  ? 
I've  never  been  to  one  of  these  affairs,  but  for  that 

295 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

matter  neither  have  you.  I  don't  suppose  they 
would  put  me  out.  Anyway  I  have  some  business 
in  the  city  and  I  thought  it  would  be  fine  for  us  to  go 
up  together.  Martha's  tickled  to  death !  Thinks  I'll 
get  it  sure  if  I  can  only  hear  some  of  the  really  big 
preachers." 

Dan  laughed,  well-pleased.  He  could  not  know  of 
the  real  motive  that  prompted  the  Doctor's  strange 
interest  in  this  great  meeting  of  church  men. 

The  next  morning  at  an  early  hour  they  were  off : 
Dan,  the  old  Doctor,  some  six  or  eight  of  the  active 
women  leaders  of  the  congregation,  Charity,  and 
Judge  Strong.  The  Ally  went  also.  There  was  no 
little  surprise  expressed,  in  a  half-jesting  manner,  by 
the  company,  at  the  presence  of  Dr.  Oldham,  and 
there  was  much  putting  together  of  heads  in  whis 
pered  consultation  as  to  what  it  might  mean.  The 
Judge  and  his  competent  associates,  with  the  Ally, 
kept  very  much  together  and  left  Dan  and  his  friend 
as  much  to  themselves.  Whenever  the  young  minis 
ter,  prompted  by  his  thoughts  of  the  last  few  hours, 
approached  the  group  there  was  a  significant  hush, 
while  his  pleasantries  were  met  by  very  formal,  and 
as  evidently  forced,  monosyllables,  which  very  soon 
sent  him  back  to  his  seat  again  with  a  face  that  made 
the  old  Doctor  say  things  under  his  breath. 

"Look  here,  Dan,"  said  the  old  physician,  as  they 
neared  their  destination,  "I  understand  that  at  these 
meetings  the  visiting  delegates  are  always  entertained 
at  the  homes  of  the  local  church  people.  I'm  not  a 
delegate,  so  I  go  to  a  hotel.  You  come  with  me ;  be 
my  guest.  Tell  'em  you  have  already  accepted  an 

296 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

invitation  to  stop  with  a  friend.  Don't  worry,  they'll 
be  glad  enough  to  have  one  less  to  care  for,  and  I 
want  you." 

The  young  man  eagerly  accepted. 

At  the  meeting  was  the  usual  gathering  of  the 
usual  types.  There  were  the  leaders,  regularly  ap 
pointed  by  the  denomination,  who  were  determined 
to  keep  that  which  had  been  committed  to  them,  at 
any  cost;  and  to  this  end  glorified,  in  the  Lord's 
service,  the  common,  political  methods  of  distributing 
the  places  of  conspicuous  honor  and  power,  upon 
program  and  committee,  among  those  friends  and 
favorites  who  could  be  depended  upon  to  respond 
most  emphatically,  or  who  were — in  the  vernacular 
— "safe."  Equally  active,  with  methods  as  familiar 
but  not  equally  in  evidence — for  one  must  be  careful 
— were  the  would-be  leaders,  who — "for  the  glory 
of  Christ" — sought  these  same  seats  of  the  mighty, 
and  who  were  assisted  by  those  who  aspired 
to  become  their  friends  and  favorites — joint  heirs  in 
their  success  should  they  succeed.  Then  there  were 
the  self-constituted  leaders  who  pushed  and  pulled 
and  scrambled  to  the  front;  content  if  they  could, 
only  for  the  moment,  be  thought  by  the  multitude  to 
be  something  more  than  they  were ;  who  were  on 
their  feet  instantly  to  speak  upon  every  question  with 
ponderous  weight  of  words,  and  were  most  happy  if 
they  could  fill  some  vacant  chair  on  the  platform. 
There  were  the  heresy  hunters  who  sniffed  with 
hound-like  eagerness  for  the  scent  of  doctrinal  weak 
ness  in  the  speeches  of  their  brothers;  and  upon 
every  proposed  movement  of  the  body,  guarded  with 

297 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

bulldog  fidelity,  the  faith  of  their  fathers.  There 
were  also  the  young  preachers  who  came  to  look  with 
awe  on  the  doings  of  the  great  ones,  to  learn  how  it 
was  done  and  to  watch  for  a  possible  opening  whereby 
they  might  snatch  their  bit  of  glory  here  on  earth. 

Many  there  were  of  this  latter  class  who,  from  the 
highest  religious  motives,  had  answered  the  call  to  the 
ministry  as  to  something  sacred  and  holy,  even  as 
had  Dan.  These  young  men,  though  they  knew  it 
not,  were  there  to  learn  how  their  leaders — while 
theoretically  depending  upon  God  for  their  strength 
and  guidance  in  managing  the  affairs  of  the  church — 
depended  actually  upon  the  very  methods  which, 
when  used  by  the  world  in  its  affairs,  they  stamped 
ungodly. 

The  Ally  was  there  in  power.  The  day  of  the 
rack,  the  thumbscrew  and  the  stake,  is  long  past: 
in  place  of  these  instruments  of  religious  discipline 
we  have — the  Ally. 

Mostly  those  on  the  firing  line  were  ministers, 
though  here  and  there  a  prominent  woman  leader 
pushed  to  the  front.  The  rest  were  brothers  and 
sisters,  mainly  sisters;  who  like  other  mortals,  al 
ways  backed  their  favorites  in  the  race  that  was  set 
before  them  all.  These  prayed  sincerely  and  de 
voutly  that  somehow,  in  ways  beyond  their  bewildered 
ken,  the  good  God  would  bless  the  efforts  that  were 
being  made  for  righteousness  and  truth,  hoping  thus 
for  heavenly  results  from  very  worldly  methods. 

Judge  Strong  was  an  old  campaigner.  A  heavy 
contributor  to  the  general  work  and  missionary  funds 
to  which  the  leaders  looked  for  the  practical  solution 

298 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  their  modest  bread  and  butter  problems,  he  had  the 
ears  of  them  all.  Nor  was  the  Elder  slow  to  use 
his  advantage.  He  could  speak  his  mind  with  frank 
ness  here,  for  these  great  men  of  the  church  lived 
far  from  Corinth  and,  while  knowing  much  of  the 
Elder — the  church  man,  knew  nothing  of  the  Judge 
• — the  citizen  and  neighbor.  More  than  this  such 
reports  as  the  Elder  had  to  make  must,  in  the  very 
nature  of  things,  for  the  good  of  the  cause,  be  strictly 
private. 

While  the  Judge  was  holding  these  little  confiden 
tial  chats  with  the  leaders,  and  the  leaders  were  hold 
ing  equally  confidential  chats  with  their  friends  and 
favorites,  and  these  in  turn  were  doing  as  they  had 
been  done  by,  the  Elder's  assistants,  assigned  to  vari 
ous  church  homes  in  the  city,  were  confidentially  ex 
changing  confidences  with  their  hostesses.  And  this 
is  the  simple  truth  of  the  whole  matter,  and  the  way 
it  all  came  about. 

Dan  was  introduced  to  tLe  secretary.  "Ah — yes, 
Brother  Matthews  of  Corinth!  Glad  to  meet  you. 
Ah,  excuse  me  I — ah,  see  a  brother  over  there  with 
whom  I  must  speak." 

Dan  was  presented  to  the  treasurer.  "Oh  yes,  I 
have  heard  of  you — at  Corinth.  Why,  hello,  Brother 
Simpkins" — catching  a  passing  preacher  by  the  arm 
— "glad  to  see  you!  How  are  you  and  how  is  the 
work?" 

Dan  introduced  himself  to  one  or  two  of  those 
whom  he  had  hungered  to  see,  those  who  were  noted 
in  the  church  papers  for  their  broad  wisdom  and 
saintly  character,  and  somehow  Dan  felt  rebuked  for 

299 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

his  forwardness  when  each,  from  his  pedestal,  looked 
at  him  and  said,  "Oh  yes;  Brother  Matthews!  I 
have  heard  of  you,  Brother  Matthews !" 

During  the  forenoon  session  of  the  second  day 
the  order  of  business  was  reports  of  the  churches. 
In  response  to  roll  call,  one  after  the  other,  the  repre 
sentatives  of  the  various  congregations  would  tell 
what  they  had  done  and  what  they  were  going  to  do. 
Dr.  Oldham  remarked  later,  "No  one  told  what  they 
had  failed  to  do,  or  what  they  were  not  going  to  do." 

As  a  rule  the  ministers  reported  for  their  own 
churches,  save  when  some  delegate  whom  the  pastor 
knew  to  be  peculiarly  qualified,  was  present.  Gen 
erally  speaking  the  ministers  consider  the  value  of 
such  a  report  to  be  greatly  increased  if  it  can  be  given 
by  some  such  member.  The  minister  himself  always 
sees  that  the  report  is  properly  prepared. 

Judge  Strong,  without  consulting  Dan,  responded 
to  the  call  for  the  Memorial  Church.  There  was  a 
distinct  hush,  and  heads  went  forward  in  interest. 
The  Elder  regretted  to  report  that,  while  they  had 
held  their  regular  services  every  Sabbath,  and  their 
preacher  was  the  most  popular  preacher  in  Corinth, 
the  conversions  for  some  reason  had  not  been  as 
numerous  as  in  some  previous  years.  But  Memorial 
Church  could  be  depended  upon  to  remedy  that  very 
soon,  for  they  were  contemplating  a  great  revival 
meeting  to  begin  as  soon  as  a  competent  evangelist 
could  be  secured.  [Loud  applause  from  the  profes 
sional  evangelists  present.]  They  felt  that  a  series 
of  good  old  Jerusalem  gospel  sermons  would  put  them 


300 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

again  to  the  front  in  the  matter  of  additions.  [Loud 
applause  from  the  defenders  of  the  faith.] 

Dan  listened  in  silent  amazement.  This  was  the 
first  he  had  heard  of  a  meeting  in  Corinth.  The 
Doctor  saw  the  boy's  face  grow  burning  red. 

The  Elder  continued  his  report,  touching  every 
department  of  the  church  in  like  vein,  and  finished 
by  "regretting  exceedingly  that  their  offering  for  the 
missionary,  and  for  the  general  work  for  the  present 
year,  had  fallen  short  of  previous  years."  The  Judge 
did  not  explain  that  he  had  subtracted  from  his  part 
in  the  church  offering  an  amount  exceeding  the  short 
age,  which  amount  he  had  added  to  his  usual  personal 
subscription.  As  for  the  regular  expenses  of  the 
congregation,  he  went  on,  they  had  been  cared  for. 

"And,"  remarked  the  state  secretary  in  a  loud 
voice,  rising  instantly  as  the  Judge  sat  down,  "I 
want  you  all  to  know  that  Judge  Strong's  personal 
contribution  to  our  funds  is  larger  this  year  than 
ever  before.  We  who  know  Brother  Strong's  splen 
did  Christian  generosity  will  understand  how  the 
regular  expenses  of  Memorial  Church  have  been 
paid."  Whereupon  the  leaders-who-were  and  the 
leaders-who-would-like-to-be  joined  with  one  accord 
in  loud  applause. 

Not  a  preacher  there  but  understood  exactly  what 
the  Elder's  report  signified. 

Following  the  reports  of  the  churches  came  the 
introductions  of  the  new  pastors.  Skilfully  the 
preachers  were  marshaled  upon  the  platform,  Big 
Dan  towering  at  the  foot  of  the  line.  Stunned  and 


301 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

embarrassed  as  he  was  by  the  Judge's  report,  the  boy 
would  not  have  gone  forward  at  all,  had  not  the 
Doctor  fairly  pushed  him  into  the  aisle.  The  old 
philosopher  told  himself  grimly  that  the  lad  might 
as  well  get  all  that  was  coming  to  him.  In  the  cere 
mony  that  followed  Dan  got  it. 

One  after  the  other  the  ministers  were  introduced 
by  the  secretary,  who  had  a  glowing  word  for  each. 
"Brother  Williams  who  has  done  such  marvelous 
work  at  Baxter."  [Loud  applause  for  Brother  Will 
iams.]  "Brother  Hardy  who  is  going  to  do  a  won 
derful  work  at  Wheeler."  [Louder  applause  for 
Brother  Hardy.]  And  so  on  down  the  line.  Not 
one,  from  big  church  or  little,  from  city  pulpit  or 
country  district,  but  secured  the  boosting  comment 
and  the  applause ;  for  this  was  Christian  enthusiasm. 

Dan's  turn  came  at  last.     His  face  was  now  white. 

"And  this,"  shouted  the  secretary,  "is  Brother 
Matthews,  the  present  pastor  of  our  church  at  Cor 
inth."  There  was  a  hush  still  and  significant;  for 
this  was  church  policy. 

After  a  moment's  silence  the  secretary  continued, 
"Please  sing  hymn  three-hundred  and  one : 
'Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love.' 

Everybody  sing!"  And  the  denominational  papers 
agreed  that  they  made  a  joyful  noise  unto  the  Lord. 

Were  the  high  officials  and  their  mates  on  this  ship 
of  salvation  to  be  blamed?  Not  a  bit  of  it!  The 
Elder's  report  made  Dan  "unsafe" — and  he  was. 
They  were  right.  More  than  this,  the  Lord  needed 
the  Judge's  influence — and  money. 

302 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

When  the  young  minister  came  back  to  his  seat 
his  old  friend  thought  his  face  the  saddest  he  had  ever 
seen. 

At  lunch  the  Doctor  told  Dan  that  he  was  going  to 
call  upon  several  friends  that  afternoon,  and  among 
them  mentioned  the  superintendent  of  a  famous  steel 
plant  in  the  city.  Agreeing  to  meet  at  dinner  in  the 
evening  they  parted,  Dan  going  alone  to  the  conven 
tion  building.  At  the  door  he  paused. 

Several  ministers,  chatting  gaily  with  friends 
passing  in  for  the  opening  of  the  afternoon  session, 
looked  curiously  at  the  stalwart,  irresolute  figure 
standing  there  alone.  Two  or  three  greeted  him 
with  a  word.  All  were  sorry  for  him;  for  not  one 
but  understood  the  meaning  of  the  incidents  of  the 
morning. 

An  hour  later  the  superintendent  of  the  great 
steel  works  greeted,  with  admiring  eyes,  the  big 
clean-looking  fellow  and  wondered  at  the  look  of 
sadness  on  his  face. 

"I  am  in  the  city  with  my  friend,  Dr.  Oldham," 
explained  Dan.  "I  expected  to  find  him  here.  He 
told  me  at'lunch  that  he  was  coming." 

"Oldham  in  town?  Good!"  exclaimed  the  man  of 
affairs.  "Of  course  he  would  look  me  up,  but  he 
hasn't  been  here  yet.  Glad  to  meet  any  friend  of  the 
Doctor's.  Sit  down,  Mr.  Matthews;  he'll  be  in 
presently,  no  doubt.  Or  perhaps  while  you're  wait 
ing,  you  would  care  to  look  about."  At  Dan's  eager 
reply  he  touched  a  bell  and,  to  the  man  who  appeared, 
he  said,  "Jack,  show  Mr.  Matthews  around.  A 
friend  of  my  friend,  Dr.  Oldham." 

303 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

And  so  the  Doctor  found  the  boy  standing  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  great  plant,  where  the  brawny 
workmen,  naked  to  the  waist — their  bodies  shining 
with  sweat  and  streaked  with  grime,  wrestled  with 
the  grim  realities  of  life. 

For  a  little  while  the  Doctor  watched  him;  then, 
tapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  shouted  in  his  ear, 
above  the  roar  of  the  furnace,  the  hissing  of  steam 
and  the  crash  and  clank  of  iron  and  steel.  "Almost 
as  good  as  a  fishing  trip,  heh  Dan  ?" 

Back  in  the  office  again  the  superintendent  intro 
duced  them  to  a  gray-haired,  smooth  faced,  portly 
gentleman — the  president  of  the  steel  company,  a 
well-known  capitalist.  The  great  man  repeated 
Dan's  name,  looking  him  over  the  while. 

"Matthews.  By  your  name  and  your  build,  sir, 
you  are  related  to  the  Grant  Matthews  who  owns 
Dewey  Bald." 

"He  is  my  father,  sir,"  returned  Dan,  delighted. 

"Ah  yes.  Through  my  interests  in  the  lead  and 
zinc  industry,  I  am  familiar  with  your  part  of  the 
country,  sir.  I  have  met  your  father  several  times. 
It  is  not  easy  to  forget  such  a  man." 

Dan  now  remembered  the  president's  name,  having 
heard  it  in  connection  with  the  mines  on  Jake  creek, 
near  his  home. 

The  capitalist  continued,  "I  have  tried  several 
times  to  persuade  your  father  to  open  up  that  hill 
of  his.  He  has  a  fortune  in  that  mountain,  sir,  a 
fortune!  Are  you  interested  in  mining,  Mr.  Mat 
thews  ?" 

"Not  directly,  sir." 

304 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"No?  Well,  if  your  people  should  ever  decide  to 
develop  that  property  come  to  me ;  I  know  what  it  is. 
We  would  be  glad  to  talk  it  over  with  you.  Good 
bye,  sir ;  glad  to  have  met  you.  Good  day,  Doctor." 
And  he  was  gone. 

The  Doctor  and  Dan  dined  with  the  genial  super 
intendent  and  his  family  that  evening  and  the  next 
morning  set  out  for  Corinth. 


305 


CHAPTEE  XXXVI. 

GOOD-BYE. 

"But  the  big  house  for  Dr.  Harry  is  still  empty  when  he 
returns  from  his  long  drives;    empty  save  for  his  dreams." 

HEN"  Hope  Farwell  dismissed  Dan  that  after 
noon  in  the  old  Academy  yard,  because  she 
feared  both  for  her  lover  and  for  herself,  she 
had  not  for  a  moment  questioned  what  Dan's  decis 
ion  would  be.  With  all  the  gladness  that  their  love 
had  brought,  there  was  in  her  heart  no  hope;  for 
she  exacted  of  herself  the  same  fidelity  to  her  relig 
ious  convictions  that  she  demanded  of  Dan.  It  would 
be  as  wrong  for  her  to  accept  the  church  as  for  him 
to  reject  it.  So  she  had  gone  to  the  limit  of  her 
strength  for  his  sake.  But  when  she  reached  again 
the  privacy  of  her  room,  her  woman  nature  had  its 
way.  With  the  morning,  strength  returned  again — 
strength  and  calmness.  Quietly  she  went  about; 
for,  while  she  had  left  the  whole  burden  of  decision 
upon  Dan,  her  heart  was  with  her  lover  in  his  fight. 
At  the  appointed  hour  she  left  her  friends  in  the 
garden  and  went  into  the  house  as  she  had  planned. 
She  did  not  expect  him  but  she  had  said  that  she 
would  wait  his  coming.  Her  heart  beat  painfully 
as  the  slow  minutes  passed,  bringing  by  his  absence, 
proof  that  she  had  not  misjudged  him.  Then  she 
went  outside  and  looking  up  saw  him  standing  at  his 

306 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAIST  MATTHEWS 

window;  smiling,  she  even  beckoned  to  him.  She 
wished  to  make  the  victory  certain,  final  and  com 
plete.  Very  quietly  she  returned  to  her  room.  She 
did  not  again  enter  the  garden. 

And  now  the  young  woman  was  conscious  that  she 
also  had  a  part  to  do.  For  every  reason  she  must  not 
remain  in  Corinth.  She  explained  her  plans  to 
Grace,  for  she  could  not  leave  the  girl,  and  the  two 
commenced  to  make  their  simple  preparations  for  the 
journey.  Feeling  that  her  strength  was  not  equal  to 
the  strain  which  another  meeting  with  Dan  would 
occasion,  there  was  no  one  left  to  bid  good-bye  save 
Deborah  and  Denny  and — Dr.  Abbott. 

Dr.  Abbott's  faithful  Jim  was  waiting,  ready  for 
a  long  trip  into  the  country,  when  Miss  Farwell 
reached  the  physician's  home.  Harry  himself, 
dressed  for  the  drive,  met  her  at  the  door. 

"You  were  just  answering  a  call,"  said  the  nurse. 
"I  will  not  keep  you,  Doctor." 

""Not  answering  a  call,  just  making  a  visit,"  he 
said,  "and  there  is  no  need  at  all  for  me  to  hurry, 
Miss  Farwell."  He  led  her  to  the  library. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  good-bye,"  she  said.  "I  could 
not  go  away  without  thanking  you,  Dr.  Abbott,  for  all 
your  kir  dness  to  me." 

The  strong  hands  of  the  physician,  so  firm  and 
sure  in  their  professional  duties,  trembled,  as  the  man 
placed  his  hat  and  gloves  on  the  table. 

"To  tell  me  'good-bye,'  "  he  repeated  blankly. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "I  cannot  remain  longer  in 
Corinth." 

Harry's  face  flushed. 

307 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

aMiss  Farwell  you  do  not  know  how  sorry  I  am 
for  my  failure  to — " 

She  interrupted,  "Please  don't  Doctor.  I  know 
how  you  have  tried/'  her  eyes  filled,  "and  I  know  all 
that  you  have  done.  You  understand  it  has  been  for 
Grace — "  she  paused.  "Grace  will  go  with  me.  I 
am  sure  Dr.  Miles  will  find  her  a  place  in  the  hos 
pital." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  understand.  I  will — will  see 
you  again  some  day,  Miss  Farwell." 

"I  shall  never  return  to  Corinth,  Doctor,"  she 
answered  with  a  shudder.  "If  you  come  to  the  city, 
though,  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you."  The 
words  were  as  frank  as  from  one  man  to  another. 

Harry  was  thinking  of  his  friend,  the  minister,  of 
the  meeting  in  the  night,  and  Dan's  plea  to  be  taken 
to  the  doctor's  home,  where  he  had  remained  until 
late  the  evening  before  he  left  for  the  church  conven 
tion.  Why  was  she  leaving  Corinth  while  Dan  was 
away  attending  the  convention  ?  Did  she  know  that 
he  was  gone  ?  What  did  it  all  mean  ?  Could  it  be — ! 
He  started  from  his  chair. 

"I  may  see  you  again,  then  ?  You  will  be  glad  to 
see  me,  Miss  Farwell?  Hope — tell  me,  surely  you 
know  what  I  would  say!  I  would  have  said  it  long 
ago  but  you  would  not  let  me.  Tell  me  if  there  is 
any  chance  for  me — ever  ?" 

She  had  risen  to  her  feet  and  into  her  face  there 
came  a  look  of  tender  sadness.  She  did  not  turn 
away,  and  the  man,  looking  into  those  gray  eyes, 
knew  that  she  spoke  truly  when  she  said,  "I  am 


308 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

sorry,  Dr.  Abbott,  oh  so  sorry !  No,  there  can  never 
be,  for  you  more  than  my  regard  and  friendship.7' 
Her  voice  trembled.  "I  know  how  it  hurts  because 
for  me — for  us — too,  there  is  no  chance." 

Then  Harry  Abbott  understood. 

She  left  him  in  the  library.  Outside  she  paused  a 
moment  to  bestow  a  good-bye  caress  upon  the  doctor's 
horse  and  then  she  quickly  went  away. 

Other  helpers  have  now  taken  the  place  of  the 
faithful  old  Mam  Liz  and  Uncle  George,  for  these 
true  souls  have  gone  to  the  Master  of  all  who  truly 
serve.  But  the  big  house  for  Dr.  Harry  is  still 
empty  when  he  returns  from  his  long  drives ;  empty 
save  for  his  dreams. 

Dr.  Harry  will  never  leave  Corinth.  When  the  old 
Doctor  berates  him  roughly  for  wearing  himself  out 
for  those  who  never  express  their  appreciation,  and 
from  whom  he  can  never  hope  to  receive  a  fee,  he 
laughingly  retorts  in  kind,  charging  the  Doctor  him 
self  with  having  consigned  to  him  such  unprofitable 
patients.  He  will  never  give  up  his  patients ;  neither 
will  he  give  up  his  dreams. 

Miss  FarwelFs  plans  for  the  girl,  whose  life  she 
had  reclaimed,  did  not  fail.  Dr.  Miles,  when  he 
heard  her  story,  gladly  helped  Grace  to  a  place  in  the 
school  where  she  might  fit  herself  for  her  chosen 
ministry;  for,  said  the  famous  physician,  "The  best 
nurses  in  the  world  are  those  who  have  themselves 
suffered.  No  amount  of  professional  skill  can  make 
up  for  a  lack  of  human  sympathy  and  love." 

As  Dan,  home  from  the  convention,  was  turning 


309 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

wearily  in  at  his  gate,  Deborah,  from  the  garden, 
called  to  him.  By  her  manner  as  she  came  slowly  to 
the  fence,  Dan  knew  the  good  soul  was  troubled. 

"It's  a  heavy  heart  I  have,  Mr.  Matthews,"  she 
said;  "for  she's  clean  gone,  an'  Denny  an'  me's  that 
lonesome  we  don't  know  what  to  do." 

Dan's  big  hand  gripped  the  fence. 

"Gone,"  he  repeated  blankly.  He  did  not  need  to 
ask  who  was  gone. 

"Yes  sir,  gone — yesterday  evenin'  be  the  train, 
leavin'  her  kindest  regards  and  best  wishes  to  you." 


310 


CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

RESULTS. 

"When  he  had  finished  his  letter,  he  bowed  his  face  in 
his  hands  and  wept." 

|  AN"  could  not — or  perhaps  it  should  be  writ 
ten  would  not — understand  rightly  his  ex 
perience  at  the  church  convention.  Sadly 
puzzled  and  surprised  by  the  spirit  and  atmosphere 
of  that  meeting  to  which  he  had  gone  with  such  con 
fidence,  and  sorely  hurt  by  his  reception,  he  had  no 
thought  of  the  real  reason  for  it  all.  He  only  blamed 
himself  the  more  for  being  so  out  of  harmony — for 
failing  so  grievously  to  find  the  key  that  should  put 
him  in  tune. 

In  the  great  steel  works  among  the  sweating,  toil 
ing  men ;  with  the  superintendent  of  the  plant,  under 
whose  hand  men  and  machinery  were  made  to  serve 
a  great  world's  need;  and  with  the  president  whose 
brain  and  genius  was  such  a  power  in  the  financial 
and  industrial  world  Dan  had  felt  a  spirit  of  kinship. 
Amid  those  surroundings  he  had  been  as  much  at 
home  as  if  he  were  again  in  his  native  hills,  and  for 
the  hour  had  forgotten  his  fellow  churchmen  and 
their  ministries.  But  as  their  train  drew  nearer  and 
nearer  Corinth,  the  Doctor  saw  by  his  companion's 
face,  and  by  his  fits  of  brooding  silence,  that  the 

311 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

minister  was  feeling  again  the  weight  of  his  trouble 
some  burden. 

By  this  and  by  what  he  had  seen  at  the  convention, 
the  old  physician  knew  that  the  hour  in  Dan's  life 
for  which  he  watched  with  such  careful,  anxious  in 
terest,  was  drawing  near. 

With  Hope  gone  out  of  his  life  he  turned  to  his 
work  with  grim,  desperate,  determination.  What, 
indeed,  had  he  now  to  which  he  might  turn  but  his 
work?  He  realized  that  now  he  must  find  in  this 
work  for  which  he  had  made  the  supreme  sacrifice  of 
his  life,  the  only  thing  that  would,  to  him,  justify  his 
choice — the  choice  that  had  cost  both  him  and  the 
woman  he  loved  so  much  suffering.  His  ministry 
had  now  become  something  more  to  him  than  a  chosen 
life  work.  To  those  high  motives  that  had  led  him  to 
the  service  of  the  church,  he  added  now  the  price  he 
had  paid  in  giving  up  the  woman  who  had  grown  so 
much  into  his  life.  He  must  find  that  in  his  ministry 
which  would  make  the  great  price  paid,  not  in  vain. 

So,  with  all  the  strength  of  his  great  nature,  he 
threw  himself  with  feverish  energy  into  what  had, 
in  spite  of  himself,  come  to  be  a  too-empty  ministry. 
Crushing  every  feeling  of  being  misunderstood,  and 
unjustly  criticized;  permitting  himself  no  thought 
that  there  were  under  the  surface  treacherous  cur 
rents  working  for  his  overthrow;  blaming  himself 
always  and  others  never,  when  he  felt  a  lack  of 
warmth  or  sympathy  in  his  people ;  yielding  for  the 
time  even  his  own  conviction  as  to  his  teaching,  and 
striving  to  shape  his  sermons  to  the  established  lines 


312 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

of  the  Elders,  he  fought  to  put  himself  into  his 
work. 

And  always,  at  the  beck  and  call  of  Dan's  real 
masters,  that  other  servant  of  the  church — that  spirit 
that  lives  in  Corinth — wrought  the  will  of  those 
whose  ally  it  is. 

That  last  meeting  of  Dan  and  Hope  in  the 
Academy  yard,  as  if  by  appointment;  the  sudden 
departure  of  the  nurse  so  soon  after ;  and  Dan's  too- 
evident  state  of  mind,  were  all  skilfully  used  to  give 
color  to  the  ugly  whispered  reasons  for  the  nurse's 
leaving  town  so  hurriedly. 

The  old  Doctor  knowing,  watching,  waited  for  the 
hour  he  knew  would  come ;  understanding  Dan  as  he 
had  always  understood  him;  wisely  recognizing  the 
uselessness  of  doing  aught  but  let  him  go  his  own 
strong,  hard,  way.  And  Dr.  Harry  also,  knowing 
the  malignant  power  that  was  forcing  the  end,  and 
conscious  what  the  end  would  be,  watched  silently, 
hopelessly,  helplessly,  as  many  a  time  he  had  watched 
the  grim  drawing  near  of  that  one  whose  certain 
coming  his  professional  knowledge  enabled  him  to 
recognize,  while  giving  him  no  power  to  stay. 

Memorial  Church  was  all  astir,  and  on  the  tiptoe 
of  expectancy,  preparing — they  said — for  the  greatest 
revival  ever  held  in  Corinth.  The  professional 
evangelist  selected  by  the  Elder,  whose  choice  was,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  approved  by  his  fellow  officials 
and  congregation,  had  sent  full  instructions  for  the 
proper  advertising  of  himself,  and — as  his  instruc 
tions  stated — "the  working  up  of  the  meeting."  Dan 


313 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ignoring  the  slight  to  himself  in  the  matter  of  calling 
the  evangelist,  did  everything  in  his  power  to  carry 
out  his  part  of  the  instructions. 

The  evangelist  arrived.  Koyally  received  by  the 
Elders  and  the  inner  circle,  he  was  escorted  in  tri 
umph  to  the  Strong  mansion,  which  was  to  be  his 
home  during  the  meeting,  and  within  the  hour  began 
his  professional  duty  of  "setting  the  church  in  order, 
and  gathering  a  mighty  harvest  of  souls." 

This  evangelist  was  a  good  one,  of  his  kind.  His 
kind  is  that  type  of  professional  soul-winner  evolved 
by  the  system  whereby  the  church  pays  for  the  in 
crease  of  its  flock  at  so  much  per  head,  inasmuch  as 
the  number  of  his  calls,  and  the  amount  of  his  hire 
depend  upon  the  number  of  additions  per  meeting  to 
the  evangelist's  credit.  A  soul-winner  with  small 
meetings  to  his  credit  receives  a  very  modest  compen 
sation  for  his  services,  and  short  notices  in  the  church 
papers.  But  the  big  fellows — those  who  have  hun 
dreds  of  souls  per  meeting,  come  higher,  much 
higher ;  also  they  have  more  space  given  them  in  the 
papers,  which  helps  them  to  come  higher  still.  Souls 
may  have  depreciated  in  value  since  Calvary,  but  one 
thing  is  sure,  the  price  of  soul-winners  has  gone 
away  up  since  the  days  of  Paul  and  his  fellow  min 
isters. 

Preaching  every  night  and  conducting  afternoon 
meetings,  calling  at  the  homes  of  the  people,  directing 
the  efforts  of  the  members  of  the  inner  circle,  some 
times  with  Dan — oftener  without  him — fully  in 
formed  and  instructed  by  the  Judge,  whose  guest  he 
was  and  to  whom  he  looked  for  a  larger  part  of  his 

814 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

generous  salary,  the  evangelist  made  himself  no  small 
power  in  the  church  of  Corinth.  Assisted  always 
by  the  skill  and  strength  of  the  Ally,  the  effectiveness 
of  his  work  from  the  standpoint  of  Elder  Strong 
and  the  inner  circle  at  least,  was  assured. 

That  was  a  great  meeting;  a  mighty  revival,  far 
reaching  in  its  influence  and  results !  So  the  de 
nominational  papers  had  it  from  Judge  Strong's 
report,  written  while  the  services  were  still  in  prog 
ress,  and  edited  by  the  evangelist.  And  the  papers 
published  a  greater  truth  than  they  knew.  There 
were  influences  of  which  they  were  ignorant,  and  the 
results  reached  ends  they  dreamed  not  of. 

Night  after  night — Dan  heard  the  evangelist  with 
harsh  words  and  startling  roughness  of  expression, 
declare  the  awful,  eternal  disaster  that  would  befall 
every  soul  that  did  not  accept  the  peculiar  brand- of 
salvation  which  he  and  his  church  alone  offered.  He 
listened  to  the  long  arguments  planned  to  prove  the 
Tightness,  and  therefore  righteousness,  of  the  evan 
gelist  himself  and  his  denominational  way,  and 
the  equal  wrongness,  and  therefore  unrighteousness, 
of  every  other  minister  and  church  not  of  his  way. 
Then  as  he  heard  these  utterances  most  emphatically 
and  enthusiastically  indorsed  by  his  Elders  and  peo 
ple  as  the  old  Jerusalem  gospel,  the  conviction  grew 
upon  him  that  his  preaching  would  never  be  accept 
able  to  Memorial  Church. 

And  what  place  is  there  in  the  scheme  of  things  as 
they  are  for  the  unacceptable  preaching  of  any  gos 
pel  ?  What  gospel  can  a  preacher  deliver  in  order  to 
be  acceptable  to  his  peculiar  church  save  that  church's 

315 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

peculiar  gospel  ?  Dan  was  not  one  to  ask  the  oft 
repeated  question  of  the  ministry,  "What  must  I 
preach  in  order  that  I  may  be  saved  ?" 

In  the  semi-secret  workers  meetings;  in  the  still 
more  private  planning  of  the  committees;  in  the 
jubilant  reports  of  the  uneasiness  of  the  other 
churches ;  and  in  the  satisfying  accounts  of  the  awak 
ened  opposition  and  answering  sermons  of  the  other 
preachers ;  in  the  evidence  of  the  general  stirring  up 
of  the  community;  and  in  the  schemes  for  further 
advertising  and  boosting  the  evangelist  and  the  cause, 
Dan  felt  himself  growing  ever  more  and  more  out  of 
harmony — felt  himself  more  and  more  alone. 

In  those  days  the  sadness  of  his  face  grew  fixed; 
his  color  lost  its  healthy  freshness ;  strange  lines,  that 
did  not  belong  to  his  young  manhood,  appeared ;  and 
the  brown  eyes  that  were  wont  to  look  at  you  so 
openly,  hopefully,  expectantly,  with  laughter  half- 
hidden  in  their  depths,  were  now  doubting,  question 
ing,  fearful,  full  of  pain. 

The  Doctor  saw,  and  silently  "stood  by.'7  Dr. 
Harry  saw  and  wished  that  it  was  all  over. 

Then  came  a  letter  from  the  officials  of  the  Chi 
cago  church  of  which  Dr.  Miles  was  a  member.  The 
letter  asked  if  Dan  would  consider  a  call  to  that  con 
gregation.  Again  and  again  Dan  read  the  letter. 
What  should  he  do  ?  He  could  not  stay  in  Corinth. 
The  sense  of  failure  haunted  him,  while  he  was  un 
able  to  fix  upon  the  reason  for  it.  He  condemned 
himself  for  committing  unknown  offenses.  Could 
he  honestly  go  to  another  church?  How  should  he 


316 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

answer  the  letter  ?  He  could  not  answer  it  at  once — 
perhaps  in  a  few  days ! 

While  he  hesitated  the  meeting  drew  to  its  tri 
umphant  close.  After  one  last,  mighty,  farewell 
effort,  the  evangelist  departed  to  some  other  grand 
harvest  of  souls,  to  some  other  church  that  needed 
"setting  in  order."  His  work  was  well  done!  So 
well  done  that  he  was  justified,  perhaps,  in  making 
another  substantial  increase  in  his  stated  weekly 
"terms." 

That  night  when  the  farewell  meeting  was  over, 
and  the  last  "good-bye"  and  "God  bless  you"  had 
been  said  to  the  evangelist,  Dan  stood  alone  in  his 
study,  by  the  window  that  looked  out  upon  Denny's 
garden.  He  was  very  tired.  Never  before  in  his 
life  had  he  known  such  weariness.  He  felt  that  in 
the  past  few  weeks  he  had  neglected  the  garden  down 
there.  For  Denny  and  Deborah  he  had  planned 
that  the  little  plot  of  ground  should  be  more  profitable 
that  year  than  it  had  ever  been  before.  He  would 
not  neglect  it  longer.  There  at  least  were  visible, 
actual  returns  for  his  labor.  Tomorrow  he  would 
spend  in  the  garden. 

But  to-night — 

Seating  himself  at  his  writing  table  he  wrote  the 
Chicago  church  that  he  could  not  consider  their  call. 
And  then  in  that  little  room  where  he  had  made  for 
his  ministry  the  supreme  sacrifice  of  his  life;  sur 
rounded  by  the  silent  witnesses  of  his  struggle  and 
victory,  he  penned  his  resignation  as  the  pastor  of 
Memorial  Church. 


317 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAN  MATTHEWS 

Dan  Matthews  will  never  outlive  the  suffering  of 
that  hour.  He  had  lost  the  woman  he  loved  with 
all  the  might  of  his  strong  passionate  manhood. 
When  she  had  waited  and  beckoned  him  to  come,  he 
had  chosen  his  ministry.  And  now — God  pity  him ! — 
now  he  had  lost  that  for  which  he  had  sacrificed  both 
himself  and  the  woman  he  loved. 

When  he  had  finished  his  letter,  he  bowed  his  face 
in  his  hands  and  wept. 


318 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

A  HANDFUL  OF  GOLD. 

"  'I  fear  it  is  more  his  church  than  mine,  sir.'  " 


early  the  next  morning  Dan  looked 
from  his  window  to  see  a  stranger  already  at 
work  in  the  garden.  He  was  tall,  raw- 
boned,  having  the  figure  and  dress  of  a  laborer.  A 
few  minutes  later  Dan  was  introduced  by  the  de 
lighted  Deborah  to  her  brother  Mike  McGowan,  who 
had  arrived  the  afternoon  before  from  somewhere  in 
the  west.  All  the  morning  the  two  men  worked 
side  by  side  with  crippled  Denny. 

Returning  to  his  self-appointed  task  in  the  after 
noon,  Dan  was  met  by  the  brawny  Irishman  who  in 
a  towering  rage,  was  just  .leaving  the  house. 

"Parson,"  he  roared,  "  'tis  a  good  man  ye  are,  if 
ye  be  only  a  protestant  preacher  —  a  damn  good  man 
sir,  beggin'  your  pardon  I  But  you've  got  a  danged 
poor  kind  of  a  boss,  thot'll  be  lookin'  more  like  he 
ought  to  when  I  git  through  with  him." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  ?"  asked  Dan  stopping 
with  his  back  to  the  gate,  thus  blocking  the  way,  for 
he  saw  that  the  stranger  was  bent  on  violence  to 
someone.  "Whom  do  you  mean,  by  my  boss  ?" 

"Who  do  I  mane?  And  who  should  I  mane,  but 
him  that  runs  the  thing  yonder  they  call  a  church, 
beggin'  your  pardon,  sir.  'Tis  the  Elder,  as  you 

319 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

sail  him — Judge  Strong.  I'll  judge  him,  if  I  can 
coax  him  widin  reach  of  my  two  hands."  He  shook 
his  huge,  hairy  fists  in  the  air.  "It's  not  strong  but 
wake  he'll  be  when  I  git  through  wid  him.  Leave 
me  pass,  if  you  please,  sir." 

Dan  held  his  place.  "Come,  come  McGowan," 
he  said,  "let's  go  into  the  house  and  you  tell  me  about 
this." 

Deborah,  who  with  Denny  was  standing  in  the 
doorway,  called  out  to  them,  "That's  right  Mr.  Mat 
thews.  Come  on  in  Mike,  and  talk  it  over  quiet  like ; 
let  the  minister  tell  ye  what  to  do.  It's  him  that'll 
save  us  a  sight  o'  trouble  that  nobody  wants.  Come 
in  sir !  Come  on  Mike,  come  with  the  minister." 

The  wrathful  Irishman  hesitated.  Dan  laid  a 
hand  on  his  arm  and  together  they  went  into  the 
cottage. 

"  'Twas  this  way  sir,"  said  McGowan,  "I  was 
sayin'  to  Debby  and  Denny  here  at  dinner  what  a 
danged  fine  man  I  took  ye  for  after  workin'  wid  ye 
all  mornin'  in  the  garden,  an'  then  she  up  an'  tells 
me  'bout  you  fixin'  up  the  mortgage  fer  them  an'  how 
they  niver  could  find  out  how  you  fixed  it  with  the 
Judge.  'The  mortgage'  says  I,  'what  mortgage  is 
that,  Debby  ?'  'The  mortgage  on  the  place,  of  course,' 
says  she.  'Don't  you  mind,  I  was  tellin'  you  'bout 
it  when  ye  was  here  before?'  'Do  I  mind'  says  I, 
<I  should  think  I  did,'  and  wid  that  it  all  come  out 
sir,  and  this  is  the  way  of  it. 

"When  I  come  from  Colorado  that  time  Jack  was 
killed  I  found  Debby  here,  widout  even  money 
enough  to  pay  for  a  mass,  to  say  nothin'  of  the 

320 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

buryin',  bein'  as  they  had  put  iverythin'  into  the 
little  place  here,  d'ye  see  ?  Well  I  had  a  run  o'  luck 
the  week  before,  which  is  neither  here  nor  there,  but 
I  had  money.  I  knowed  from  experience  that  it 
wouldn't  shtay  by  me  long  anyway,  an'  so  I  thought 
I'd  kinda  fix  things  up  fer  Debby  an'  the  kid  here, 
while  I  could,  d'ye  see  ? 

"Well  when  'twas  all  over,  I  paid  the  undertaker's 
bills  an'  iverythin'  like  that,  an'  then  the  very  day 
I  left  I  went  to  that  damn  thief,  beggin'  your  pardon, 
an'  paid  off  that  mortgage  in  good,  hard  cash.  Ex- 
plainin'  to  him,  d'ye  see,  that  I  wanted  the  papers  all 
fixed  up  straight  and  clear  and  turned  over  to  Debby 
here,  as  a  kind  of  a  surprise,  d'ye  see,  after  I  was 
gone  an'  she  would  be  feelin'  down-hearted  bein'  left 
by  her  man  and  me  besides.  The  Judge  bein',  as  I 
knew,  the  main  guy  in  the  big  church,  I  niver  thought 
but  that'd  be  all  right,  d'ye  see?  Well  sir,  I  went 
away  that  very  day  as  tickled  as  a  boy  over  the  thing 
an'  niver  thought  nothin'  about  not  gettin'  a  letter 
about  it  from  her,  'cause  ye  see  wid  me  on  the  move 
so,  most  of  the  letters  I  git  from  Debby  niver  find 
me  at  all.  An'  here  she's  tillin'  me  now  that  she's 
niver  heard  nothin'  'bout  it  from  the  Judge  an'  she's 
been  pay  in'  the  interest  right  along,  an'  would  a 
been  turned  out  by  him  if  it  han't  a  bin  fer  you,  sir. 
An'  me  wid  no  writin'  nor  nothin'  to  show  for  the 
good  money  I  paid  him.  Now,  ain't  that  a  hell  of  a 
thing,  sir  ?  What  kin  I  do  save  bate  the  face  off  him 
onless  he  fixes  it  up  right  an'  gives  back  ivery  cint 
he's  had  off  her  besides  ?" 

As  he  listened  to  the  Irishman's  story,  the  new, 

321 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

drawn  lines  in  Dan's  face  deepened.  He  sat  with 
bowed  head  as  though  he  himself  were  being  charged 
with  theft.  When  the  tale  was  finished  there  was 
silence  in  the  little  room  for  several  minutes.  Then 
Dan  raised  his  head  and  the  others  saw  that  in  his 
eyes,  as  though  he  had  received  a  mortal  hurt. 

"Tell  me,  Mr.  McGowan,"  he  said.  "Are  you  sure 
there  is  not  some  mistake  somewhere?  It  is  very 
hard  for  me  to  believe,  that  an  Elder  of  the  church — 
would — "  his  voice  broke. 

The  Irishman's  rough  tones  were  softened  as  he 
answered,  "An'  how  could  there  be  any  mistake,  sir, 
wid  me  givin'  him  the  hard  cash  out  of  me  own 
pocket  after  his  tellin'  me  how  much  it  was,  an'  his 
promise  to  fix  it  up  all  right  fer  Debby  when  I'd  ex 
plained  the  surprise  I'd  meant  fer  her?" 

"You  paid  him  the  money,  you  say  ?" 

"That  I  did  sir — gold.  Ye  see  I  happened  to  have 
that  draft — jest  a  thousand  an'  I  turned  it  in  here  at 
the  bank.  I  remember  how  the  feller  at  the  winder 
tried  to  make  me  take  thim  dirty  bills  an'  I  would 
not,  as  neither  would  you  if  you  lived  as  long  in  the 
west  as  I  have,  sir,  an'  got  used  to  the  good,  clean 
gold.  'It's  the  gold  or  nothin'  I'll  have'  says  I  to  him, 
'clean  money  to  pay  a  clean  debt'  an'  we  had  some 
words  over  it — his  bein'  on  the  other  side  o'  the 
winder,  ye  see,  where  he  could  talk  to  me.  An  even 
eight  hundred  and  fifty  I  gave  the  Judge,  one  hun 
dred  and  forty  I  paid  the  undertaker  and  the  other 
tin  I  gave  to  Denny  here  as  I  was  leavin'.  The 
priest  I  paid  out  of  some  I  had  in  me  belt." 

"Come,"  said  Dan,  "we  must  go  to  the  bank." 

322 


THE  CALLIXG  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

In  the  rear  room  of  the  little  country  bank,  Dan 
introduced  the  Irishman  to  the  cashier,  Colonel  Dun- 
wood. 

"I  think  I  have  met  Mr.  McGowan  before,"  said 
the  Colonel  with  a  smile.  "Mrs.  Mulhall's  brother 
are  you  not  ?  You  were  here  when  Jack  was  killed." 

"I  was,  sir.    Glad  to  meet  you  again,  sir." 

"Do  you  remember  cashing  a  draft  for  Mr.  Mc 
Gowan,  Colonel '?"  asked  Dan. 

The  banker  laughed  heartily.  "I  should  say  I 
did — a  thousand  dollars  in  gold.  I  was  glad  the 
counter  was  between  us,  when  I  tried  to  persuade  him 
to  take  paper.  Why  sir,  not  in  twenty  years  in  this 
state  would  you  find  a  man  who  would  even  accept 
the  gold,  let  alone  fighting  for  it!" 

Then  Dan  explained  briefly  the  situation. 

When  he  had  finished  the  Colonel  sprang  to  his 
feet  with  an  oath.  "And  that  explains  something  that 
puzzled  us  here  in  the  bank,  for  many  a  day.  Wait 
a  minute." 

He  left  the  room  to  return  with  a  slip  of  paper. 
"Can  you  tell  me  the  exact  date  on  which  you 
cashed  the  draft  ?"  he  said  to  McGowan. 

"It  was  the  day  after  the  funeral.  I  disremember 
the  date,  but  'twould  be  easy  to  find." 

The  banker  nodded,  "Our  books  show  that  I  paid 
you  the  money  the  sixteenth.  And  here,"  he  laid 
the  slip  of  paper  before  them,  "is  a  deposit  slip  made 
out  and  signed  by  Judge  Strong  dated  the  seven 
teenth,  showing  that  on  that  date  he  deposited  eight 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  gold.  That  is  what 
puzzled  us,  Mr.  Matthews — that  the  Judge  should 

323 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

deposit  that  amount  of  gold,  there  being,  you  see  so 
little  gold  handled  here.  It  makes  it  very  easy  to 
trace.  I'll  illustrate."  He  turned  to  Mike.  "Did 
you  spend  any  more  of  the  gold  in  Corinth  ?" 

McGowan  told  him  about  paying  the  undertaker. 
After  a  moment  the  Colonel  triumphantly  laid  be 
fore  them  a  deposit  slip  made  out  by  the  undertaker 
dated  a  day  later,  showing  an  item  of  one  hundred 
and  forty  dollars  in  gold. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "how  easy  it  is." 

"Colonel  Dunwood,"  said  Dan,  "would  this  be 
sufficient  evidence  before  a  jury  to — "  He  hesitated. 

The  Colonel  let  fly  another  oath,  "Yes  sir,  and 
before  any  jury  you  could  get  together  in  this  county 
it  wouldn't  take  half  this  to  send  that  damned,  long- 
faced,  sniveling,  hypocrite  where  he  belongs.  He  is 
one  of  our  best  customers,  too,  but  I  reckon  this  bank 
can  get  along  without  his  dirty  money.  I  beg  your 
pardon,  sir ;  I  forgot  he  is  an  Elder  in  your  church.''' 

Dan  smiled  sadly,  "I  fear  it  is  more  his  church 
than  mine,  sir."  And  they  left  the  banker  to  puzzle 
over  the  minister's  remark. 

That  evening  Dan  went  again  to  the  home  of 
Judge  Strong.  He  had  persuaded  McGowan  to  let 
him  act  in  the  matter,  for  he  feared  that  the  Irish 
man's  temper  would  complicate  things  and  make  it 
more  difficult  to  secure  Deborah's  rights  by  creating 
some  feeling  in  the  community  against  the  little 
family. 

Dan  found  the  Judge  in  his  library.  Very  quietly, 
sadly  indeed,  he  told  the  story.  The  Elder,  right 
eously  indignant,  stormed  at  the  minister,  denying 

324 


DAN   PLEADED   WITH   HIM 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

everything;  accusing  Dan  of  being  an  impudent 
meddler;  threatening  him  with  dismissal  from  the 
church  and  the  denomination;  accusing  him  even, 
with  unlawful  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  widow, 
and  taunting  him  with  the  common  reports  as  to  his 
relations  with  Miss  Farwell  and  her  companion. 

Dan  with  a  look  of  sadness  growing  deeper  on  his 
face  listened,  without  a  word  until  the  final  insinua 
tion;  then  he  checked  the  other  sharply,  and  his 
voice  had  the  ring  of  metal  in  it  as  he  said  slowly, 
" Judge  Strong  you  shall  answer  to  me  later  for  this 
insult  to  these  good  women.  Just  now  you  will  not 
mention  them  again.  I  am  here  in  the  interests  of 
Mr.  McGowan.  Confine  your  remarks  to  that  sub 
ject." 

Then  he  laid  before  the  Judge  the  evidence  he  had 
obtained  at  the  bank  and  pointed  out  its  damaging 
strength.  The  man  was  frightened  now,  but  still 
he  obstinately  denied  having  received  any  money  in 
payment  of  the  mortgage.  Dan  pleaded  with  him, 
urging  even  the  cause  of  the  church,  telling  also  how 
McGowan  had  agreed  to  do  nothing  further  if  the 
Judge  would  simply  make  restitution. 

The  Judge  answered  arrogantly  that  he  had  been 
a  faithful  member,  and  an  Elder  in  the  Memorial 
Church,  too  long  to  be  harmed  by  the  charges  of  a 
stranger,  a  wandering  ruffian,  who  had  nothing  but 
his  word  to  show  that  he  had  paid  him  a  sum  of 
money.  "And  as  for  you,  young  man/'  he  added, 
"I  may  as  well  tell  you  now  that  your  time  is  about 
up  in  Corinth,  and  I'll  take  mighty  good  care  that 
you  don't  get  another  church  in  our  brotherhood 

325 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

either.  I'll  show  you  that  preachers  get  along  better 
when  they  attend  to  their  own  affairs." 

Dan's  final  words,  as  he  stood  by  the  door,  were, 
"I  cannot  believe  Judge  Strong,  that  you  will  force 
my  friends  to  take  this  matter  into  the  courts.  But 
we  will  certainly  do  so  if  I  do  not  receive  from  you 
by  tomorrow  noon  the  proper  papers  and  a  check 
for  every  cent  you  have  taken  from  Mrs.  Mulhall." 

Until  late  in  the  night  after  Dan's  departure, 
Judge  Strong  still  sat  at  his  desk,  deep  in  thought. 
Occasionally  he  rose  to  walk  the  floor. 

When  the  Judge  had  received  that  money  from 
McGowan  he  had  had  no  thought  but  regret  at  losing 
the  property  he  coveted.  With  Deborah  and  Denny 
left  alone  in  the  world,  he  knew  that  in  time  the 
place  would  be  sure  to  come  to  him.  He  had  only  to 
wait.  This  wild  Irish  brick-layer — and  who  knows 
what  beside — who  was  he  to  block  the  Elder's  plans 
with  his  handful  of  gold  ? 

The  gold !  How  well  the  Judge  remembered  that 
day,  and  how  when  Mike  was  gone,  he  had  sat  con 
templating  the  shining  pieces !  What  a  fool  the  man 
was  to  carry  such  stuff  on  his  person !  The  careful 
Judge  never  dreamed  that  the  money  had  come  from 
his  own  bank.  The  Irishman  was  going  away  on 
the  morrow.  Planning  gleefully  to  surprise  his  sis 
ter,  he  had  told  no  one.  He  would  wander  far.  It 
would  be  years  before  he  would  return,  if  he  ever 
came  back.  By  that  time  the  property  would  be — 

It  was  seemingly  all  too  easy.  The  Judge's  char 
acter  was  not  a  character  to  resist  such  an  oppor 
tunity.  The  gold  alone  perhaps  would  not  have  won, 

326 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

but  the  gold  and  the  place — the  place  he  had  planned 
for  and  felt  so  certain  of  owning — that  was  too  much ! 

And  now  this  big  sad-faced  preacher — the  Irish 
man  again,  and  the  bank!  The  more  the  Judge 
thought  over  Dan's  quiet  words,  the  more  he  saw 
the  danger. 

So  it  came  about,  that  the  next  morning  Dan, 
waiting  in  his  study,  received  a  visitor — the  good 
old  Elder — Nathaniel  Jordan. 


327 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THE  VICTORY  OF  THE  ALLY. 

"So  the  old  Doctor  found  him  in  the  late  afternoon  —  his 
great  strength  shaken  by  rage  and  doubt;  found  him  strug 
gling  like  a  beast  in  the  trap." 


was  greatly  agitated  as  he  faced 
the  minister  in  the  doorway.  He  moved 
unsteadily  across  the  room,  stumbling  to 
ward  the  chair  Dan  offered,  and  his  hand  shook  so 
violently  that  his  cane  rattled  against  the  window 
ledge,  where  he  attempted  to  lay  it  —  rattled  and  fell 
to  the  floor.  He  jumped  in  his  seat  at  the  sound. 
Dan  picked  up  the  cane  and  placed  it  on  the  table. 
Then  the  Elder  found  his  voice  —  thin  and  trembling 
—  and  said,  "I  came  about  —  about  Brother  Strong, 
you  know.7' 

"Yes,"  said  Dan,  a  great  pity  for  this  good  old 
man  in  his  heart.  "Did  Judge  Strong  send  any 
thing?" 

The  Elder  fumbled  in  his  pocket  and  drew  out  an 
envelope.  He  extended  it  with  shaking  fingers  to 
Dan,  who  opened  it  and  examined  the  contents. 
Slowly  he  replaced  them  in  the  envelope  and,  looking 
at  his  visitor,  waited. 

Again  the  Elder  found  his  voice  and  said  with  a 
little  more  self-control,  "A  bad  business,  Brother 
Matthews  ;  too  bad,  too  bad  ;  poor  Brother  Strong  !" 


328 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

He  shook  his  head  sadly.  Dan  looked  at  him  curi 
ously,  but  made  no  reply. 

"Poor  Brother  Strong,"  the  Elder  repeated. 
"Brother  Matthews,  I  want  to  ask  you  to  use  your 
influence  with  these  people  to  keep  this  sad  affair 
from  getting  out.  Do  you  think  they  will  insist  on 
— ah,  on  bringing  action  against  Brother  Strong 
now — now  that  he  has — ah,  complied  with  your  re 
quest  ?" 

"And  why,"  asked  Dan,  "should  you  wish  the 
matter  kept  secret?" 

The  Elder  gazed  at  him  blankly.  "Why  ?  Why, 
on  account  of  the  church,  of  course.  Judge  Strong 
is  one  of  our  leading  members — an  Elder.  He  has 
been  for  years.  It  would  ruin  us — ruin  us !" 

"But,"  said  Dan  coolly,  "he  is  a  thief.  You  must 
know  that  he  stole  this  money.  Here — ,"  he  stretched 
forth  his  hand,  holding  the  envelope,  "here  is  his 
confession  of  guilt." 

The  Elder's  voice  trembled  again.  "Brother  Mat 
thews!  Brother  Matthews!  I — I  protest!  Such 
language,  applied  to  an  Elder  is  unchristian;  you 
know  the  scripture  ?" 

"Is  it  not  true  ?"  persisted  Dan. 

"Ahem!  Brother  Strong  may  have  made  a  mis 
take,  may — ah,  have  done  wrong,  but  the  church — 
the  church;  we  must  think  of  the  good  name  of  the 
cause!  Coming  so  soon  after  the  revival,  too!" 

"Am  I  to  understand,  then,  that  the  church  will 
keep  this  man  in  his  place  as  an  Elder ;  that  you  will 
protect  him  when  you  know  his  true  character  ?" 


329 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

At  the  question  the  other  stared  blankly.  "Why — 
why  how  could  we  get  along  without  him  ?" 

"How  can  you  get  along  with  him  ?"  asked  Dan. 

"But  there  isn't  a  man  in  Corinth  who  has  done  so 
much  for  us  and  for  the  missionary  cause !  No,  no, 
we  must  be  more  careful,  Brother  Matthews." 

"Then  for  the  sake  of  his  contributions  and  his 
position  in  the  community  the  church  will  shield  him 
from  the  results  of  his  crime  ?" 

The  Elder  squirmed  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

"Is  that  what  you  mean  ?"  insisted  Dan. 

"Why — I — I  don't  think,  Brother  Matthews,  for 
the  good  of  our  cause  in  Corinth,  that  it  would  be 
good  policy  to  make  this  matter  public  and  so  cre 
ate  a  great  stir.  Brother  Strong  has  made  restitu 
tion.  We  must  be  charitable,  brother,  and  forgiving. 
You  must  not  think  too — too  hard  of  him.  Are  these 
people  determined  to  push  this  matter  ?" 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Dan,  "not  at  all.  They  want  only 
that  which  belongs  to  them.  You  may  rest  easy; 
as  I  told  the  Judge  last  night,  this  will  end  the  mat 
ter.  It  was  under  that  promise  that  he  made  resti 
tution,  as  you  call  it.  I  was  simply  asking  to  know 
how  the  church  would  look  upon  such  a  thing  when 
it  touches  an  Elder.  You  have  explained  it  clearly 
— policy  I" 

The  Elder  stiffened.  It  was  remarkable  how 
quickly  he  revived  under  Dan's  assurance  that  the 
danger  was  past!  Very  dignified  now,  as  became 
one  in  his  position,  he  said,  "Ahem,  ahem !  I  fear, 
Brother  Matthews,  that  you  are  not — ah — not  en- 


330 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

tirely  in  harmony  with  our  brotherhood  in  many 
things." 

Dan  was  silent. 

"Ahem!  The  tone  of  your  sermons  has  been  I 
may  say — ah,  questioned  by  a  good  many  of  us,  and 
your  attitude  toward  the  board  has  not  been  quite  as 
cordial  as  we  feel  we  have  a  right  to  expect." 

"Do  you  speak  from  personal  experience,  sir  ?" 

"Oh,  no — no  indeed,  Brother  Matthews;  but — ah, 
Brother  Strong  has  felt  for  some  time  past  that  you 
have  treated  him  rather  coldly." 

Dan  waited. 

"A  lack  of  harmony  between  a  pastor  and  his 
Elder  is  very  bad — ah,  very  bad.  Ahem!  Ahem! 
And  so,  considering  everything  we — Brother  Str — 
that  is  the  board  have  thought  best  that  your  relations 
with  the  Memorial  Church  should  discontinue." 

"And  when  was  this  action  taken?"  asked  Dan 
quietly. 

"The  day  before  the  meetings  closed.  We  wished 
to  have  the  benefit  of  Brother  Sigman's  advice  before 
he  left.  He  met  with  us  and  we  considered  the  whole 
matter  quite  carefully  and  prayerfully.  I  was  ap 
pointed  to  tell  you.  I  should  add  that  there  is  no 
doubt  but  the  people  will  concur  in  the  board's  decis 
ion.  Many  of  the  members,  I  may  say,  were  seen 
before  we  took  action." 

Dan  glanced  toward  his  desk  where,  in  the  en 
velopes,  lay  his  resignation  and  his  answer  to  the 
Chicago  church.  In  the  excitement  of  McGowan's 
trouble  he  had  neglected  to  mail  them. 


331 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Of  course,"  he  questioned,  quietly  curious  now, 
"the  board  will  give  me  a  letter  ?" 

"Ahem!  We — ah,  discussed  that  also,"  said  the 
Elder.  "Brother  Strong  and  the  Evangelist — and, 
I  may  say,  the  entire  board  feel  that  we  cannot  con 
sistently  do  so." 

"May  I  ask  why  ?" 

"Ahem!  Your  teaching,  Brother  Matthews,  does 
not  seem  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  brotherhood. 
We  cannot  endorse  it,  and  the  talk  in  the  community 
about  your  conduct  has  been  very  damaging;  very!" 

"Is  it  charged  that  my  teaching  has  been  false  to 
the  principles  of  Christianity  as  taught  by  Christ?" 

"I  cannot  discuss  that  part,  Brother  Matthews.  It 
is  not  such  teaching  as  the  churches  of  our  brother 
hood  want." 

"Does  the  church,  sir,  believe  that  my  character 
is  bad?" 

"No,  sir — no,  sir!  ~No  one  really  believes  that, 
but  you  have  been — ah,  injudicious.  There  has  been 
so  much  talk,  you  know — " 

"Who  has  talked  ?"  Dan  interrupted. 

The  Elder  continued,  "These  things  follow  a  min 
ister  all  his  life.  We  cannot  recommend  a  man  of 
bad  repute  to  our  sister  churches;  it  would  reflect 
upon  us." 

"For  the  same  reason  that  you  keep  in  a  high 
office  in  the  church  a  man  who  is  an  unrepentant 
thief  ?"  said  Dan. 

The  Elder  rose.  "Keally,  Brother  Matthews,  I 
cannot  listen  to  such  words  about  our  Elder !" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Dan  huskily.     "I 

332 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

was  thinking  aloud.  Please  tell  me  one  thing  more. 
I  have  here  a  letter  from  a  church  in  Chicago  asking 
me  to  consider  a  call.  Have  the  Elders  received  a 
letter  from  them  ?" 

"Ahem !  Yes,  we  considered  it  at  that  same  meet* 
ing." 

"And  you  have  written  them?" 

"We  could  not  recommend  you.  I  am  sorry, 
Brother  Matthews." 

"I  believe  you  are,"  said  Dan  slowly.  "Thank 
you." 

When  the  Elder  was  gone  Dan  turned  sadly  back 
to  his  little  study;  the  study  that  had  come  to  stand 
so  for  everything  to  which  he  had  devoted  his  life 
with  such  holy  purpose,  for  which  he  had  sacrificed 
so  much. 

Slowly  he  went  to  his  desk  and  looked  down  upon 
the  work  scattered  over  it.  Taking  up  the  two  letters 
he  tore  them  slowly  into  fragments  and  dropped  them 
into  the  waste  basket.  Then  as  slowly  he  turned  to 
his  books,  touching  many  of  the  familiar  volumes 
with  a  caressing  hand.  Then  he  went  to  the  table 
where  lay  his  church  papers  and  the  missionary 
pamphlets  and  reports.  The  envelope  from  Judge 
Strong  caught  his  eye. 

Mechanically  he  took  his  hat  and  went  to  carry 
the  message  to  his  friends  on  the  other  side  of  the 
garden.  From  across  the  street  the  old  Doctor  hailed 
him  but  he  did  not  hear. 

Delivering  the  envelope,  with  a  few  brief  words, 
the  minister  left  his  friends  and  wandered  on  down 
the  street  in  a  bewildered,  dazed  fashion,  scarce  know- 

333 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ing  where  lie  went,  or  why;  until  he  turned  in 
through  the  gap  in  the  tumble-down  fence  to  the  old 
Academy  yard. 

But  he  could  not  stay  there.  The  place  was 
haunted,  he  could  not  stay!  He  turned  his  face 
toward  the  open  country,  but  the  fields  and  wood 
lands  had  no  call  for  him  that  day.  It  was  his  little 
study  that  called;  his  books,  his  work. 

As  one  goes  to  sit  beside  the  body  of  a  dear  friend, 
conscious  that  the  friend  he  loved  is  not  there,  yet 
unable  to  leave  the  form  wherein  the  spirit  had  lived, 
so  Dan  went  back  to  his  room,  his  desk,  his  books,  his 
papers — that  which  had  been  his  work. 

And  now  the  deep  passions  of  the  man  stirred 
themselves — awoke.  Wild  anger,  mad  rage,  seized 
and  shook  him.  His  whole  sense  of  justice  was  out 
raged.  This  was  not  Christianity,  this  thing  that 
had  caught  him  in  its  foul  snare !  And  if  the  church 
was  not  Christian  what  was  Christianity  ?  Was  there, 
indeed,  such  a  thing  ?  Was  it  all  such  a  hollow 
mockery  ? 

So  the  Doctor  found  him  in  the  late  afternoon — 
his  great  strength  shaken  by  rage  and  doubt;  found 
him  struggling  like  a  beast  in  the  trap. 

And  the  Doctor  saw  that  the  hour  for  which  he 
had  waited  had  come. 

Dan  needed  him — needed  him  badly! 


334 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  DOCTOR'S  GLASSES. 

"  There  is  no  hatred,  lad,  so  bitter  as  that  hatred  born  of 
a  religious  love;  no  falsehood  so  vile  as  the  lie  spoken  in 
defense  of  truth;  no  wrong  so  harmful  as  the  wrong  com 
mitted  in  the  name  of  righteousness;  no  injustice  so  terrible 
as  the  injustice  of  those  who  condemn  in  the  name  of  the 
Saviour  of  the  world!'" 

[HEN  Dan,  forced  into  something  of  his 
habitual  self-control  and  calmness  by  the 
presence  of  his  old  friend,  began  telling  the 
Doctor  of  the  action  of  the  church  the  other  checked 
him  abruptly  with,  "I  know  all  about  that,  lad." 

"You  know!"  ejaculated  Dan. 

"Certainly  I  know.  Isn't  Martha  one  of  the  elect  ? 
I  reckon  everybody  in  the  whole  town  but  you  knew 
it  before  noon  of  the  day  after  the  meeting." 

Dan  muttered  something  about  being  a  blind  fool 
and  the  old  Doctor  answered,  "Humph!  The  fools 
are  they  who  see  too  much,  boy.  Such  blindness  as 
yours  is  a  gift  of  the  gods ;  for  Heaven's  sake  don't 
let  any  quack  fit  you  out  with  glasses !" 

Dan  threw  himself  wearily  into  a  chair  and  there 
was  a  spirit  of  recklessness  in  his  reply,  as  though  he 
were  letting  go  of  himself  again.  "How  is  a  blind 
man  to  recognize  a  quack?  I  would  to  God  I  had 
your  glasses !" 

335 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  Doctor  deliberately,  "I  might 
lend  them  to  you,  just  for  once,  you  know." 

"Well  then,"  said  the  other,  sitting  up  suddenly, 
"let  me  have  them!  How  do  you  see  this  thing? 
What  have  I  done  or  not  done?  For  what  shall  I 
blame  myself  ?  What  fatal  error  have  I  made  that, 
with  the  best  of  motives,  with  the — ,"  he  hesitated, 
then — "I  can  say  it  to  you,  Doctor,  and  I  will — with 
the  sacrifice  of  the  dearest  thing  in  the  world  to  me, 
I  am  cast  out  in  this  fashion  ?  If  I  can  find  a  reason 
for  it,  I  can  bear  it." 

"It  is  your  blindness,  boy.  You  could  not  help  it ; 
you  were  born  blind.  I  have  always  known  this 
would  come." 

"You  have  always  known  this  would  come  ?"  re-> 
peated  Dan  questioningly. 

"Yes,  I  have  always  known,  because  for  half  a  cen 
tury,  boy,  I  have  observed  the  spirit  of  this  institu 
tion.  Mind,  I  do  not  say  the  spirit  of  the  people  in 
the  institution.  Strong  people,  Dan,  sometimes 
manage  to  live  in  mighty  sickly  climates.  The  best 
people  in  the  world  are  sometimes  held  by  evil  cir 
cumstances  which  their  own  best  intentions  have 
created.  The  people  in  the  church  are  the  salt  of  the 
earth.  If  it  were  not  for  their  goodness  the  system 
would  have  rotted  long  ago.  The  church,  for  all  its 
talk,  doesn't  save  the  people;  the  people  save  the 
church.  And  let  me  tell  you,  Dan,  the  very  ones 
in  the  church  who  have  done  the  things  you  have 
seen  and  felt,  at  heart  respect  and  believe  in  you." 

Dan  broke  forth  in  such  a  laugh  as  the  Doctor  had 
never  heard  from  his  lips.  "Then  why  ?" 

336 


THE 


E  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Because,"  said  the  old  man,  "it  is  their  religion 
to  worship  an  institution,  not  a  God;  to  serve  a 
system,  not  the  race.  It  is  history,  my  boy.  Every 
reformation  begins  with  the  persecution  of  the  re 
former  and  ends  with  the  followers  of  that  reformer 
persecuting  those  who  would  lead  them  another  step 
toward  freedom.  Misguided  religious  people  have 
always  crucified  their  saviors  and  always  will !" 

Dan  was  silent,  awed  by  the  revelation  of  his  old 
friend's  mind.  Presently  the  Doctor  continued, 
"There  is  no  hatred,  lad,  so  bitter  as  that  hatred 
born  of  a  religious  love;  no  falsehood  so  vile  as  the 
lie  spoken  in  defense  of  truth ;  no  wrong  so  harmful 
as  the  wrong  committed  in  the  name  of  righteous 
ness  ;  no  injustice  so  terrible  as  the  injustice  of  those 
who  condemn  in  the  name  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
world!" 

"What  then,  as  you  see  it — what  can  I  do?"  de 
manded  Dan. 

The  Doctor  changed  his  tone.  His  reply  was  more 
a  question  than  an  answer.  "There  are  other 
churches  ?" 

Dan  laughed  bitterly.  "They  have  taken  care  of 
that,  too."  He  began  to  tell  of  the  call  to  Chicago 
and  the  Elders'  refusal  to  give  him  a  letter,  but  again 
the  Doctor  interrupted  him.  "Yes,  I  know  about 
that,  too." 

"Well,"  demanded  Dan  almost  angrily. 

"Well,"  answered  the  other  easily,  "there  are  still 
other  churches." 

"You  mean — ." 

"I  mean  that  you  are  not  the  only  preacher  who 

337 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

has  been  talked  about  by  his  church,  and  branded  by 
his  official  board  with  the  mark  of  the  devil  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  It's  easy  enough!  Go  farther, 
get  a  little  obscure  congregation  somewhere,  stay  long 
enough  to  get  a  letter,  not  long  enough  to  make  an 
other  name;  try  another  in  the  same  fashion.  Lay 
low,  keep  quiet,  stay  away  from  conventions,  watch 
your  chance,  and — when  the  time  is  ripe — make  a 
hit  with  the  state  workers  in  some  other  state.  You 
know  how!  It's  all  easy  enough!" 

Dan  leaped  to  his  feet.  "Good  God,  Doctor!  I 
have  done  nothing  wrong.  Why  should  I  skulk,  and 
hide,  and  scheme  to  conceal  something  I  never  did, 
for  the  privilege  of  serving  a  church  that  doesn't 
want  me  ?  Is  this  the  ministry  ?" 

"It  seems  to  be  a  large  part  of  it,"  answered  the 
other  deliberately.  "My  boy,  it's  the  things  that 
preachers  have  not  done  that  they  try  hardest  to 
hide.  As  to  why,  I  must  confess  that  I  am  a  little 
near-sighted  myself  sometimes." 

"I  can't,  I  can't  do  it,  Doctor !" 

"Humph!  I  didn't  suppose  you  could,"  came 
dryly  from  the  old  man. 

Dan  did  not  heed  but  went  on  in  a  hopeless  tone  to 
tell  the  Doctor  how  he  had  written  his  resignation, 
and  had  declined  to  consider  the  call  to  Chicago. 
"Don't  you  see  that  I  couldn't  take  a  church  if  one 
were  offered  me  now  ?"  he  asked.  "Don't  you  under 
stand  what  this  has  done  for  me  ?  It's  not  the  false 
charges.  It's  not  that!  It's — it's  the  thing,  what 
ever  it  is,  that  has  made  this  action  of  the  church 
possible.  I  am  forced  to  doubt,  not  alone  the 

338 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAX  MATTHEWS 

church,  but  everything — the  people,  myself,  God, 
Christ,  Christianity,  life  itself;  everything!  How 
can  I  go  on  with  a  work,  in  which  I  cannot  say  to 
myself  with  truth  that  I  believe  ?"  His  voice  ended 
in  a  groan. 

And  the  old  man,  who  knew  the  lad  so  well  felt 
as  though  he  were  gazing  upon  the  big,  naked  soul. 
Then,  indeed,  the  Doctor  knew  that  the  hour  had 
come. 

There  are  those  who,  capable  of  giving  but  little 
to  life,  demand  of  life  much  in  return.  To  such 
weak  natures  doubt  means  not  much.  But  souls  like 
this  one,  capable  of  giving  themselves  to  the  last  atom 
of  their  strength,  demand  no  small  returns  in  convic 
tions  as  to  the  worthiness  of  the  cause  to  which  they 
contribute.  To  such,  doubt  is  destruction.  It  was 
because  Dan  had  believed  so  strongly,  so  wholly  in 
the  ministry  of  the  church  that  he  had  failed.  Had 
he  not  accepted  so  unreservedly,  and  given  himself  so 
completely  to  the  ministry  as  it  was  presented  to  him 
in  theory,  had  he  in  some  degree  doubted,  he  would 
have  been  able  to  adjust  himself  to  the  actual  con 
ditions.  He  would  have  succeeded. 

For  while,  theoretically,  the  strength  of  the  church 
is  in  its  fidelity  to  the  things  in  which  it  professes 
to  believe ;  practically  and  ,  actually  the  strength  of 
the  church  of  today  is  in  its  tacit  acceptance  of  its 
unbeliefs.  Strange  things  would  befall  us  if  we 
should  ever  get  the  habit  of  insisting  that  our  prac 
tice  square  with  our  preaching;  if  churches  should 
make  this  the  test  of  fellowship — that  men  must 
live  their  doctrines,  rather  than  teach  them — that 

339 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

they  must  live  their  beliefs  rather  than  confess  them 
— that  they  must  live  their  faiths,  rather  than  pro 
fess  them. 

Dan's  was  not  a  nature  that  could  preach  things 
in  which  he  only  half  believed  to  a  people  whose 
belief  he  knew  to  be  no  stronger  than  his  own.  It 
was  with  these  things  in  mind  that  the  Doctor  had 
waited  for  this  moment  in  Dan's  life,  for  the  old  man 
realized,  as  the  young  man  could  not,  what  such 
moments  mean. 

Rising  and  going  to  the  window  overlooking  the 
garden  the  Doctor  called  to  Dan,  "Come  here,  boy!" 

Together  they  stood  looking  down  on  the  little  plot 
of  ground  with  its  growing  vegetables,  where  Denny, 
with  his  helpless,  swinging  arm,  and  twisted,  drag 
ging  foot,  was  digging  away,  his  cheery  whistle  float 
ing  up  to  them.  The  physician  spoke  with  a  depth 
of  feeling  he  had  never  betrayed  before,  while  Dan, 
troubled  as  he  was,  listened  in  wonder  to  his  friend, 
who  had  always  been  so  reticent  in  matters  such  as 
this. 

"Dan,"  he  said,  "you  wished  for  my  glasses.  ?Tis 
always  a  mighty  dangerous  thing  to  try  to  see  through 
another  man's  eyes,  but  here  are  mine."  He  pointed 
below. 

"Down  there  I  see  religion — Christianity — what 
you  will,  but  religion;  living,  growing,  ever-chang 
ing,  through  the  season-ages;  lying  dormant  some 
times,  it  may  be,  but  always  there ;  yielding  to  each 
season  the  things  that  belong  to  that  season;  de 
pending  for  its  strength  and  power  upon  the  Great 
Source  of  all  strength  and  power ;  depending  as  truly 

340 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

upon  man's  efforts,  upon  his  cultivation  and  care. 
There  is  variety,  harmony,  law,  freedom.  There  is 
God!  Something  for  all — potatoes,  peas,  turnips, 
cabbage.  If  you  do  not  care  for  lettuce,  perhaps 
radishes  will  satisfy.  And  there,  boy,  in  the  midst 
of  his  church,  ministering  to  the  needs  of  his  congre 
gation,  and  thus  ministering  to  men — is  my  minister : 
crippled,  patient  Denny,  who  gives  his  frail  strength 
to  keep  the  garden  growing. 

"And  look  you,  boy,  at  the  great  rock  in  the  very 
center  of  the  field!  How  often  Denny  has  wished 
it  out  of  his  way!  I  caught  the  poor  lad  digging, 
one  time,  to  find,  if  he  could,  how  deep  it  is  in  the 
earth,  and  how  big.  For  three  days  I  watched  him. 
Then  he  gave  it  up.  It  is  beyond  his  strength  and  he 
wisely  turned  to  devote  his  energies  to  the  productive 
soil  around  it. 

"There  is  a  rock  in  every  garden,  Dan.  Religion 
grows  always  about  the  unknowable.  But  Denny's 
ministry  has  naught  to  do  with  the  rock,  it  has  to  do 
with  the  growing  things  about  it.  So  religion  is  in 
the  knowable  things  not  in  the  unknowable;  there 
such  men  as  you,  lad,  must  find  it.  And  the  rock, 
boy,  was  not  put  in  the  garden  by  men.  It  belongs 
to  the  earth  itself." 

While  the  Doctor  was  speaking  his  eyes  had  been 
fixed  on  the  crippled  boy  in  the  garden.  He  turned 
now,  for  the  first  time,  to  face  the  young  man  by  his 
side.  Dan's  eyes  had  that  wide,  questioning  look. 
The  old  physician  moved  to  the  other  window. 

"Now  come,  see  what  men  have  done."  He 
pointed  to  the  cast-iron  monument.  "These  people 

341 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

will  tell  you  that  was  erected  to  commemorate  the 
life  of  my  friend.  His  was  a  warm,  tender,  loving 
spirit — a  great,  ever-growing  soul.  What  can  that 
hard,  cold,  immovable  mass  tell  of  him?  How  can 
that  thing — perpetuating  an  issue  that  belongs  to  a 
past  age,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  life  of 
today — how  can  that  thing  speak  of  the  great  heart 
that  loved  and  gave  itself  always  to  men  ? 

" Through  my  glasses  that  is  the  church?  How 
can  an  institution,  or  a  system  of  theological  beliefs 
— with  cast-iron  prejudices,  cast-iron  fidelity  to  issues 
long  past  and  forgotten,  cast-iron  unconcern  of  vital 
issues  of  the  life  of  today  and  cast-iron  want  of 
sympathy  with  the  living  who  toil  and  fight  and  die 
on  every  side — how  can  such  speak  the  great  loving, 
sympathetic,  helpful  spirit  of  Him  whose  name  only 
it  bears,  as  that  bears  only  the  name  of  my  friend  ? 

"But  would  the  people  of  this  town,  out  of  love  for 
my  dead  friend,  tear  down  that  monument  if  Denny 
should  leave  his  garden  to  argue  with  them  about  it  ? 
Why,  they  would  tell  him  that  it  is  because  of  their 
love  for  the  statesman  that  they  keep  it  there  and 
they  believe  it — and  it  is  true.  Well,  then,  let  them 
keep  their  monument  and  let  Denny  work  in  his 
garden !  And  don't  you  see,  Dan,  that  the  very  ones 
who  fight  for  the  cast-iron  monument  must  depend 
at  last  for  their  lives  and  strength  upon  the  things 
that  Denny  grows  in  his  garden.  Now  boy,  that's 
the  first  and  only  time  I  ever  preached." 


342 


CHAPTER  XLL 

THE  FINAL  WORD. 

"This  closes  my  ministry  as  you  understand  it.  It  by 
no  means  closes  my  ministry  as  I  have  come  to  under 
stand  it.'" 

AN'S  farewell  sermon  was  to  be  given  in  the 
evening.  John  Gardner,  who — true  to  the 
promise  he  had  made  when  he  challenged 
the  minister,  after  that  sermon  on  "Fellowship  of 
Service" — had  become  a  regular  attendant,  was  pres 
ent  in  the  morning. 

In  the  afternoon  the  farmer  called  on  Dan  in  his 
•study. 

"Look  here,  Dan,"  he  said.  "You  are  making  the 
mistake  of  your  life." 

"You're  wrong,  John.  I  made  that  mistake  nearly 
two  years  ago,"  he  answered. 

"I  mean  in  leaving  Corinth  as  you  are  leaving  it." 

"And  I  mean  in  coming  to  Corinth  as  I  came 
to  it." 

"But  wait  a  minute ;  let  me  tell  you !  You  have 
done  a  lot  of  good  in  this  town ;  you  don't  know — ." 

"So  have  you  done  a  lot  of  good,  John ;  you  don't 
know  either." 

The  farmer  tried  again.  "You  have  helped  me 
more  than  you  know." 

"I'm  glad,  John,  because  you  have  helped  me  more 
than  you  know." 

343 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"Oh,  come ;   you  know  what  I  mean !" 

"Well,  don't  you  know  what  I  mean  ?" 

"Yes,  I  think  I  do.  I've  been  listening  pretty 
close  to  your  sermons  and  so  have  a  lot  of  others.  I 
have  managed  to  talk  with  a  good  many  church 
people  since  it  was  known  that  you  were  going;  just 
common  plugs  in  the  congregation,  like  me,  you 
know.'7  Dan  smiled.  "We  all  understand  what  you 
have  been  driving  at  in  your  preaching,  and  we  know 
pretty  well  what  the  bosses  think  about  it,  and  why 
they  have  let  you  out.  No  one  takes  any  stock  in 
that  foul  gossip,  not  even  Strong  himself.  Now 
what  I  came  to  say  is  this :  a  lot  of  us  want  you  to 
stay.  Why  can't  we  have  another  church  for  our 
people  right  here  in  Corinth  ?  There's  enough  of  us 
to  back  you,  and  we  mean  business." 

Dan  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"Thank  you,  John,"  he  said  simply.  "It  is  use 
less  for  me  to  try  to  tell  you  how  much  good  this 
does  me ;  but  I  can't  accept.  I  have  thought  of  the 
possibility  you  mention,  but  I  can't  do  it.  You  do 
not  need  another  church  in  Corinth.  You  have  more 
than  you  need  now." 

Nor  could  any  argument  move  him. 

"Well,"  said  the  farmer,  when  at  last  he  gave  it 
up  and  rose  to  say  good-bye,  "I  suppose  I'll  keep 
right  on  being  a  church  member,  but  I  reckon  I'll 
have  to  find  most  of  my  religion  in  my  work." 

"And  that,"  said  Dan,  as  he  gripped  his  friend's 
hand,  "is  the  best  place  I  know  of  to  look  for  it.  If 
you  cannot  find  God  in  your  everyday  work,  John, 
you'll  not  find  Him  on  Sunday  at  the  church." 

344 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAltf  MATTHEWS 

That  farewell  sermon  is  still  talked  about  in  Cor 
inth  or  rather — it  should  be  said — is  still  remem 
bered,  for  it  was  one  of  those  sermons  of  which,  while 
little  could  be  said,  much  could  never  be  forgotten. 
And  the  picture  of  the  big  lad,  whose  strong,  clean- 
looking  body  drooped  so  as  if  in  great  weariness; 
whose  frank  open  countenance  was  marked  with 
drawn  lines ;  in  whose  clear  brown  eyes  were  shadows 
of  trouble  and  pain;  whose  voice  betrayed  the  sad 
ness  of  a  mighty  soul,  will  also  remain  long  in  the 
memory  of  those  who  were  there  that  evening. 

The  place  was  crowded.  The  triumphant  Judge 
and  his  friends  of  the  inner  circle  were  there  in  force, 
striving  in  vain  to  hide,  with  pious  expression  of 
countenance,  the  satisfaction  and  pride  they  felt  in 
their  power.  The  other  members  were  there,  curious 
to  hear  what  Dan  would  say;  wondering  how  much 
he  knew  of  the  methods  that  had  brought  about  his 
dismissal;  a  little  sorry  for  him;  a  little  indig 
nant;  and  with  a  feeling  of  impotence  withal  that 
made  their  sorrow  and  indignation  of  no  worth  what 
ever.  With  identically  the  same  emotions  as  the 
members,  except  that  it  felt  free  to  express  them 
more  freely,  the  world  was  there.  To  a  portion  of 
the  congregation  Dan  stood  in  the  peculiar  position 
of  a  friend  whom,  as  an  individual,  they  loved  and 
trusted,  but  whom,  as  a  preacher,  they  were  forced 
to  regard  as  unsafe  and  dangerous. 

It  would  not  do  to  report  all  he  said,  for  much  of 
his  sermon  was  not  fashioned  for  the  printed  page. 

But  his  final  words  were :  "It  is  not  the  spirit  of 
wealth,  of  learning,  or  of  culture  that  can  make  the 

345 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

church  of  value,  or  a  power  for  good  in  the  world, 
but  the  spirit  of  Christ  only.  It  is  not  in  fidelity  to 
the  past  but  in  fidelity  to  the  present  that  the  church 
can  be  Christian.  It  is  not  the  opinion  of  man,  but 
the  eternal  truths  of  God  that  can  make  it  a  sacred, 
holy  thing.  It  is  holy  to  the  degree  that  God  is  in  it. 
,  God  is  as  truly  in  the  fields  of  grain,  in  the  forests, 
in  the  mines,  and  in  those  laws  of  Nature  by  which 
men  convert  the  product  of  field  and  forest  and  mine 
into  the  necessities  of  life.  Therefore  these  are  as 
truly  holy  as  this  institution.  Therefore,  again,  the 
ministry  of  farm,  and  mine,  and  factory,  and  shop; 
of  mill,  and  railroad,  and  store,  and  office,  and  wher 
ever  men  toil  with  strength  of  body  or  strength  of 
mind  for  that  which  makes  for  the  best  life  of  their 
kind — that  ministry  is  sacred  and  holy. 

"Because  I  believe  these  things  I  am,  from  this 
hour,  no  longer  a  professional  preacher,  hired  by  and 
working  under  the  direction  of  any  denomination  or 
church  leaders.  This  closes  my  ministry  as  you  un 
derstand  it.  It  by  no  means  closes  my  ministry  as  I 
have  come  to  understand  it." 

When  he  had  finished  they  crowded  around  him  to 
express  regret  at  his  going — sorry  that  he  was  leaving 
the  ministry;  the  church  needed  men  of  his  great 
ability — prayed  God  to  bless  him  wherever  he  should 
go — all  this  and  much  more,  with  hand-shaking  and 
many  tears  from  the  very  people  who  had  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  stay.  For  this  is  the  way  of 
us  all! 

As  quickly  as  he  could  Dan  left  the  church,  and 
with  the  Doctor  walked  toward  home.  The  two 

346 


THE  CALLING  OF  VAX  MATTHEWS 

made  no  exchange  of  words,  until  they  reached  the 
monument,  where  they  paused  to  stand  silently  con 
templating  the  cast-iron  figure.  At  last  Dan  turned 
with  a  smile.  "It  is  very  good  cast-iron,  I  suppose, 
Doctor." 

Then,  as  if  dismissing  the  whole  matter,  he  took 
his  old  friend's  arm  and,  with  a  joyous  ring  in  his 
voice  that  had  not  been  there  for  many  months,  said, 
"Doctor,  you'll  do  me  one  favor  before  I  leave,  won't 
you?" 

"What?" 

"Go  fishing  with  me  tomorrow.  There  is  some 
thing,  still,  before  I  can  leave  Corinth — .  I  do  not 
know  how —  Will  you  go  ?" 


347 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

JUSTICE. 

"The  last  shadow  of  his  Corinthian  ministry  had  been 
lifted  from  his  soul." 

ARLY  the  next  morning  Dan  and  the  old 
Doctor  set  out  for  Wheeler's  Ford.  It  was 
the  nearest  point,  and  while  the  fishing  was 
not  so  good  as  at  other  places  they  knew  the  spot  was 
what  they  wanted.  This  was  one  of  the  days  when 
they  would  go  fishing — but  not  for  fish. 

Leaving  their  rig  by  the  roadside  near  the  fence, 
the  two  friends  wandered  away  up  the  stream;  cast 
ing  their  hooks  now  and  then  at  the  likely  places; 
taking  a  few  fish;  pausing  often  to  enjoy  the  views 
of  silver  water,  over-hanging  trees,  wooded  bluffs, 
rocky  bank  or  grassy  slope,  that  changed  always  with 
the  winding  of  the  creek. 

Returning  to  the  rig  for  their  lunch  and  to  give  the 
old  horse  his  generous  allowance,  they  went  down 
stream  in  the  afternoon,  this  time  leaving  their  rods 
behind. 

"Really,  you  know,"  said  the  Doctor,  "the  tackle 
is  such  a  bother  on  this  kind  of  a  fishing  trip."  At 
which  sage  remark  Dan's  laugh  rang  out  so  freely 
that  the  woods  on  the  other  side  of  the  little  valley 
gave  back  the  merry  sound. 

Dan  felt  strangely  light-hearted  and  free  that  day. 

348 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  Doctor  thought  the  lad  was  more  like  himself 
than  he  had  been  for  months.  The  truth  is  that 
Dan's  gladness  was  akin  to  the  gladness  of  home 
coming.  He  felt  as  one  who,  having  been  for  long 
years  in  a  foreign  land,  returns  to  his  own  country 
and  his  own  people.  He  was  again  a  man  among 
his  fellow-men,  with  no  barrier  between  him  and  his 
kind.  Once  more  he  was  in  the  world  to  which  he 
belonged,  and  it  was  a  good  world. 

There  was,  too,  a  strange,  delightful  feeling  of 
nearness  to  her — the  woman  he  loved.  He  had  had 
no  word  since  she  left  Corinth,  nor  did  he  know 
where  she  was.  He  would  never  find  her  again,  per 
haps,  but  he  no  longer  belonged  to  a  world  separate 
and  apart  from  her  world.  He  felt  nearer  to  her 
even  than  when  they  were  together  that  last  time  in 
the  old  Academy  yard. 

Dan  was  conscious,  too,  of  a  sense  of  freedom — of 
a  broader,  fuller  life  than  he  had  ever  known. 
Through  the  old  Doctor's  timely  words,  setting  his 
thoughts  into  new  channels,  he  had  come  out  of  his 
painful  experience  with  a  certain  largeness  of  vision 
that  made  him  stronger.  He  had  found  himself. 
He  did  not  know  yet  what  he  would  do ;  he  had  plans 
dimly  formed,  but  nothing  fixed.  What  did  it 
matter?  Somewhere  he  felt  his  garden  waited  for 
him;  he  would  find  his  work.  He  was  free  from 
the  deadening  influence  of  the  cast-iron  monument 
and  that,  for  the  moment,  was  enough.  So  far  as 
his  Corinthian  ministry  was  concerned  only  one 
shadow,  out  of  all  the  dark  cloud  of  his  troubled 
experience  remained.  When  that  was  lifted  he  would 

349 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

turn  his  back  upon  Corinth  forever,  but  until  then 
he  did  not  feel  free  to  go. 

They  were  lying  on  the  grassy  bank  of  a  wood 
land  pasture,  where  a  herd  of  cattle  grazed  or  lay 
contentedly  in  the  shade  of  the  scattered  trees. 

"Heigh-ho,"  said  the  Doctor,  "I  believe  I  will  go 
with  you,  lad." 

For  some  time  they  had  been  silent  and  it  was 
almost  as  though  the  old  man  had  spoken  to  his  com 
panion's  thoughts. 

"Go  where  ?"  asked  Dan,  turning  over  on  his  side 
and  half-raising  himself  on  his  elbow. 

"Why  home  to  Mutton  Hollow,  of  course.  You'll 
be  leaving  pretty  soon  now,  I  reckon." 

"I  suppose  so,"  mused  Dan  vaguely.  "But  I'm  not 
going  home." 

The  old  Doctor  sat  up.    "Not  going  home !" 

Dan  smiled.  "Not  just  yet,"  he  answered.  "I 
want  to  run  about  a  little  first." 

"Uh-huh,"  the  Doctor  nodded.  "Want  to  get  your 
hair  dry  and  your  shirt  on  right  side  out  before 
you  face  the  folks." 

Dan  laughed.  "Perhaps  I  want  to  look  for  my 
garden,"  he  said. 

"Good!"  ejaculated  the  other,  now  very  much  in 
earnest.  "Let  me  help  you,  lad.  You  know  what  I 
have  always  hoped  for  you.  My  profession  needs — ." 

Dan  interrupted  gently,  "No.  No  Doctor,  not 
that.  I  have  a  notion — but  there — it's  all  too  vague 
yet  to  even  discuss.  When  I  am  ready  to  go  home 
I'll  write  you  and  you  can  meet  me  there.  Will 
you?" 

350 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

The  old  man  hid  his  disappointment,  answering 
heartily,  "Sure  I  will !  I'll  be  there  when  you  arrive, 
to  help  kill  the  fatted  calf."  He  did  not  tell  Dan 
of  a  letter  from  his  mother  urging  him,  for  certain 
reasons,  to  visit  them,  or  that  he  had  already  prom 
ised  her  to  be  with  them  when  Dan  should  return. 

The  shadows  were  beginning  to  stretch  toward  the 
river,  and  the  cattle  were  moving  slowly  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  farmyard,  hidden  somewhere  beyond  the 
fringe  of  timber,  when  the  two  friends  went  leis 
urely  back  to  the  road  to  find  their  rig  and  start  for 
home. 

Climbing  the  fence  they  paused  and — seated  on  the 
top  rail — watched  a  team  and  buggy  just  coming 
down  the  opposite  bank  of  the  stream  to  cross  the 
ford.  Midway  the  horses  stopped  to  drink. 

"By  George,"  muttered  the  Doctor,  "it's  our 
friend  the  Judge!" 

The  same  instant,  Dan  recognized  the  man  in  the 
buggy.  With  the  recognition  all  the  brightness  went 
out  of  his  face — as  a  cloud,  all  the  sadness  returned. 

"Doctor,"  Dan  said,  slipping  down  from  the  fence 
as  he  spoke,  "excuse  me  a  minute.  I  must  speak  to 
that  man." 

The  Doctor  kept  his  place  on  the  fence,  while  Dan 
stepped  into  the  road.  The  team,  when  they  had 
left  the  ford,  stopped  as  they  reached  him. 

"How  do  you  do,  Doctor  ?"  called  the  man  in  the 
buggy  in  a  loud  voice ;  then  to  Dan,  "Well,  sir,  what 
do  you  want  now  ?" 

Dan  stood  near  the  horses'  heads,  his  eyes  fixed 


351 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

on  their  driver,  and  the  Judge,  seeing  the  sorrow 
in  his  face,  misunderstood,  as  always. 

"Judge  Strong,"  said  Dan.  "You  are  the  only 
man  in  the  world  with  whom  I  am  not  at  peace.  I 
cannot  be  content  to  leave  Corinth,  sir,  with  anything 
between  us." 

The  crafty  Judge  thought  he  understood.  He 
took  Dan's  words,  with  his  manner,  as  an  acknowl 
edgment  of  defeat;  an  act  of  submission.  The 
Elder  had  not  believed  that  the  young  man  had  really 
wished  to  leave  the  ministry.  He  was  quite  sure 
now  that  the  preacher,  recognizing  at  last  the  power 
that  had  thrust  him  from  his  position  and  place  in 
the  church,  wished  to  sue  for  peace,  that  the  same 
power  might  help  him  to  another  position.  So  this 
big  upstart  was  tamed  at  last,  was  he  ? 

The  Doctor,  sitting  on  the  fence  and  hearing  every 
low-spoken  word,  held  a  different  view  of  the  situ 
ation. 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge  haughtily. 

Dan  hesitated.  "I — I  wished  to  ask  a  favor,  sir; 
one  that  I  feel  sure  a  Christian  could  not  refuse." 

Now  the  Judge  was  confident  of  his  position  and 
power.  He  grew  still  more  dignified  and  looked  at 
Dan  with  the  eye  of  a  master. 

"Well,  out  with  it.  It  is  growing  late  and  I  must 
be  going." 

"You  will  remember,  sir,  that  the  last  time  I 
called  on  you  in  your  home,  you  made  certain  grave 
charges  against  three  women  who  are  my  friends." 

"I  repeated  only  the  common — " 

"Wait,  please,"  interrupted  Dan.    "This  is  a  mat- 

352 


THE  CALLIXG  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

ter  between  you  and  me.  I  understand  that  you  were 
angry  and  spoke  hastily.  Won't  you  please  retract 
those  words  now?"  Dan's  voice  was  almost  plead 
ing  in  its  sad  slowness ;  his  eyes  were  on  the  Judge 
with  an  anxious,  appealing  look.  Disappointed  at 
the  request  so  different  from  that  which  he  had 
expected,  the  Judge  angrily  answered,  "Stand  out 
of  my  way ;  I  have  no  time  for  this,  sir !" 

But  quietly,  carelessly  it  seemed,  Dan  laid  one 
hand  on  the  back  of  the  nearest  horse,  almost  touch 
ing  the  rein,  and  moved  a  step  or  two  closer  to  the 
buggy. 

"Sir,  I  am  sure  you  do  not  understand.  Miss 
Farwell  and  I — I  had  hoped  to  make  her  my  wife. 
We — we  parted  because  of  the  church." 

The  Doctor  on  the  fence  felt  a  lump  in  his  throat 
at  the  pain  in  the  boy's  voice.  Dan  continued,  "I 
am  telling  you,  sir,  so  that  you  will  understand. 
Surely  you  cannot  refuse  to  take  back  your  words 
under  the  circumstances." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  sneered  the  Judge.  "You  lost  the 
girl  because  of  the  church  and  then  you  lost  the 
church !  A  fine  mess  you  made  of  your  pious  inter 
ference  with  other  people's  business,  didn't  you?" 
And  then  he  laughed.  Looking  straight  into  those 
sad,  pleading  eyes — he  laughed. 

"The  damned  fool,"  muttered  the  old  Doctor  on 
the  fence. 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  you  refuse  to  retract 
your  words  after  my  explanation  ?"  Dan's  tone  was 
mildly  doubtful. 

The  Judge  was  well  pleased  at  what  he  had  heard. 

353 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

"I  have  absolutely  nothing  to  take  back,  sir."  He 
laughed  again.  "Now  if  that  is  all,  stand  aside !" 

But  suddenly  the  light  in  Dan's  eyes  flashed  red. 

"No!"  he  cried,  "that  is  not  all!"  With  a  long 
step  he  reached  the  side  of  the  buggy. 

The  next  moment  the  Judge  found  himself  on  the 
ground. 

"Wh — what  do  you  mean  sir  ?"  he  roared.  "Take 
your  hands  off  of  me !" 

Dan's  voice  was  trembling  with  rage,  but  he  spoke 
deliberately. 

"You  unspeakable  cur,  I  have  felt  sorry  for  you 
because  of  your  warped  and  twisted  nature;  be 
cause  you  seemed  so  incapable  of  being  anything 
more  than  you  are.  I  have  given  you  a  chance  to  act 
like  a  man,  and — you — you  laugh  at  me!  You  es 
caped  punishment  for  your  theft  from  that  poor 
widow.  You  have  escaped  from  God  knows  how 
many  such  crimes.  But  now,  in  the  name  of  the 
people  you  have  tricked  and  robbed  under  the  cover 
of  business,  in  the  name  of  the  people  you  have 
slandered  and  ruined  under  cover  of  the  church,  I'm 
going  to  give  you  what  such  a  contemptible  rascal  as 
you  are,  deserves." 

The  Judge  was  a  large  man,  in  the  prime  of  life, 
but  his  natural  weapons  of  warfare  were  those  of  the 
fox,  the  coyote  and  their  kin.  Cornered,  he  made 
a  show  of  resistance,  but  he  was  as  a  child  in  the 
hands  of  the  young  giant,  who  thrashed  him  until  he 
lay  half-senseless,  moaning  and  groaning  in  pain,  on 
the  ground. 

When  Dan  at  last  drew  back  the  Doctor,  who 

354 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

through  it  all  had  remained  quietly  seated  on  the 
fence — an  interested  spectator — climbed  down  from 
his  position  and  came  slowly  forward.  Looking  the 
Judge  over  with  a  professional  eye  he  turned  to  Dan 
with  a  chuckle. 

"You  made  a  mighty  good  job  of  it,  lad ;  a  mighty 
good  job.  Lord,  how  I  envied  you!  Chuck  him 
into  his  buggy  now,  and  I'll  take  him  home.  You 
can  follow  in  our  rig." 

So  they  went  home  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening. 
And  the  old  Doctor  told  around  town  a  tale  of  how 
the  Judge  had  met  with  an  accident  at  Wheeler's 
Ford  that  would  keep  him  in  the  house  for  quite  a 
spell. 

Dan  spent  his  last  evening  in  Corinth  with  Dr. 
Harry  and  the  next  morning  he  left.  The  last 
shadow  of  his  Corinthian  ministry  had  been  lifted 
from  his  soul. 

Corinth  still  talks  of  the  great  days  that  are  gone, 
and  the  greater  days  that  are  to  come,  while  still  the 
days  that  are,  are  dead  days — shadowed  by  the  cast- 
iron  monument  which  yet  holds  its  place  in  the  heart 
of  the  town,  and  makes  of  the  community  a  fit  home 
for  the  Ally. 

Judge  Strong  has  gathered  to  himself  additional 
glory  and  honor  by  his  continued  activity  and  promi 
nence  in  Memorial  Church  and  in  his  denomination, 
together  with  his  contributions  to  the  various  funds 
for  state  and  national  work. 

Elder  Jordan  has  been  gathered  to  his  fathers. 
But  Nathaniel  came  to  feel  first,  the  supreme  joy  of 
seeing  his  daughter  Charity  proudly  installed  as  the 

355 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

assistant  pastor  to  the  last  of  Dan's  successors.  They 
live  at  the  old  Jordan  home  and  it  is  said  he  is  the 
most  successful  preacher  that  the  Memorial  Church 
has  ever  employed,  and  the  prospects  are  he  will 
serve  for  many  years  to  come. 

Denny,  through  his  minister  friend,  has  received 
his  education  and — surrounded  now  by  the  books  he 
craved — cultivates  another  garden,  wherein  he  bids 
fair  to  grow  food  for  men  quite  as  necessary  as  cab 
bages  or  potatoes.  Deborah  is  proud  and  happy  with 
her  boy;  who,  though  he  be  crippled  in  body,  has  a 
heart  and  mind  stronger  than  given  to  many. 

The  Doctor  seldom  goes  fishing  now,  though  he 
still  cultivates  his  roses  and,  as  he  says,  meddles  in 
the  affairs  of  his  neighbors.  And  still  he  sits  in  his 
chair  on  the  porch  and  watches  the  world  go  by. 
Martha  says  that,  more  and  more,  the  world,  to  the 
Doctor,  means  the  doings  of  that  minister  Dan 
Matthews. 

It  was  a  full  month  after  Dan  left  Corinth  when 
he  wrote  his  old  friend  that  he  was  going  home. 
The  Doctor  carefully  packed  his  fishing  tackle  and 
started  for  Mutton  Hollow. 


356 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

THE  HOME  COMING. 

"Some  things,  thank  God,  are  beyond  the  damning  power 
of  our  improvements." 


now  this  story  goes  back  again  to  the 
mountains  to  end  where  it  began:  back  to 
where  the  tree-clad  ridges  roll,  like  mighty 
green  billows  into  the  far  distant  sky;  where  the 
vast  forests  lie  all  a-quiver  in  the  breeze,  shimmering 
in  the  sun,  and  the  soft,  blue  haze  of  the  late  summer 
lies  lazily  over  the  land. 

Beyond  Wolf  ridge,  all  up  and  down  Jake  and 
Indian  creeks,  and  even  as  near  as  Fall  creek,  are  the 
great  lead  and  zinc  mines.  Over  on  Garber  the 
heavily  loaded  trains,  with  engines  puffing  and  pant 
ing  on  the  heavy  grades,  and  waking  the  echoes  with 
wild  shrieks,  follow  their  iron  way.  But  in  the 
Mutton  Hollow  neighborhood,  there  are  as  yet  no 
mines,  with  their  unsightly  piles  of  refuse,  smoke- 
grimed  buildings,  and  clustering  shanties,  to  mar 
the  picture.  Dewey  Bald  still  lifts  its  head  in  proud 
loneliness  above  the  white  sea  of  mist  that  still,  at 
times,  rolls  over  the  valley  below.  The  paths  are 
unaltered.  From  the  Matthews  house  on  the  ridge, 
you  may  see  the  same  landmarks.  The  pines  show 
black  against  the  sunset  sky.  And  from  the  Mat 
thews  place — past  the  deerlick  in  the  big,  low  gap — 

357 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

past  Sammy's  Lookout  and  around  the  shoulder  of 
Dewey — looking  away  into  the  great  world  beyond, 
still  lies  the  trail  that  is  nobody  knows  how  old. 

So  in  life.  With  all  the  changes  that  time  in 
evitably  brings,  with  all  our  civilization,  our  inven 
tions  and  improvements,  some  things  must  remain 
unchanged.  Some  things — the  great  landmarks  in 
life  and  in  religion,  the  hills,  the  valleys,  the  mists, 
must  ever  remain  the  same.  Some  things,  thank 
God,  are  beyond  the  damning  power  of  our  improve 
ments. 

In  minor  things  the  Matthews  home  itself  is  al 
tered.  But  Dan's  father  and  mother  are  still — in 
spite  of  the  years  that  have  come — Young  Matt  and 
Sammy. 

It  was  that  best  of  all  seasons  in  the  Ozarks — 
October — the  month  of  gold,  when  they  were  sitting 
on  the  front  porch  in  the  evening  with  the  old  Doc 
tor,  who  had  arrived  during  the  afternoon. 

"Now,  Doctor,"  said  the  mother,  "tell  us  all  about 
it."  There  was  no  uneasiness  in  her  calm  voice,  no 
shadow  of  worry  in  her  quiet  eyes.  And  the  boy's 
father  by  her  side  was  like  her  in  serene  confidence. 
They  knew  from  Dan's  letters  something  of  the  trials 
through  which  he  had  passed ;  they  had  assured  him 
often  of  their  sympathy.  It  never  occurred  to  them 
to  doubt  him  in  any  way  or  to  question  the  final 
outcome. 

"Yes,  Doctor,"  came  the  deep  voice  of  the  father. 
"We  have  had  Dan's  letters  of  course,  but  the  lad's 
not  one  to  put  all  of  his  fight  on  paper.  Let's  have 
it  as  you  saw  it." 

358 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

So  the  Doctor  told  them — told  of  the  causes  that 
had  combined  to  put  Dan  on  the  rack,  that  had 
driven  him  in  spite  of  himself  to  change  his  views 
of  the  church  and  its  ministry;  told  of  the  forces 
that  had  been  arrayed  against  him,  how  the  lad  had 
met  these  forces,  and  how  he  had  battled  with  himself 
— all  that  the  Doctor  had  seen  in  the  months  of 
watching ;  all  that  he  knew  of  Dan,  even  to  the  time 
when  Dan  declared  his  doubt  of  everything,  and  to 
the  chastising  of  Judge  Strong.  He  omitted  nothing 
except  the  declaration  he  had  heard  Dan  make  to  the 
Judge. 

Several  times  the  narrator  was  interrupted  by  the 
deep-voiced,  hearty  laugh  of  the  father,  or  with 
exclamations  of  satisfaction.  Sometimes  the  Doctor 
was  interrupted  by  a  quick,  eager  question  from  the 
mother,  that  helped  to  make  the  story  clear.  Many 
times  they  uttered  half-whispered  exclamations  of 
wonder,  distress  or  indignation. 

"When  he  left  Corinth,"  said  the  Doctor  in  conclu 
sion,  "he  told  me  that  he  had  no  clearly-defined 
plans,  though  he  hinted  at  something  that  he  had  in 
mind." 

"But,  Doctor,  haven't  you  forgotten  a  very  im 
portant  part  of  your  story  ?"  the  mother  asked. 

"What  have  I  forgotten  ?"  he  questioned. 

"Why,  the  girl  of  course.  What  is  a  story  with 
out  a  girl  ?"  she  laughed  merrily. 

To  which  the  Doctor  answered,  "I  reckon  Dan 
will  tell  you  about  that  himself." 

At  this  they  all  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh. 

The  next  day  Dan  arrived  and  after  a  brief  time, 

359 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

given  up  to  the  joy  of  family  reunion,  he  took  up 
the  story  where  the  Doctor  had  left  off. 

From  Corinth  Dan  had  gone  directly  to  the 
president  of  the  big  steel  works,  whom  he  had  met  at 
the  time  of  the  convention.  With  the  assistance 
and  advice  of  this  man  of  affairs  he  had  been  visiting 
the  big  mines  and  smelters  and  studying  zinc  and 
lead.  He  had  worked  out  his  plan  and  had  inter 
ested  capital  and  had  come  home  to  consult  with  his 
parents  concerning  the  opening  and  development  of 
the  mine  on  Dewey  Bald. 

Then  he  talked  to  them  of  the  power  of  wealth 
for  good,  of  the  sacredness  of  such  a  trust — 
talked  as  they  had  never  heard  him  talk  before  of  the 
Grace  Conners,  and  the  crippled  Dennys,  who  needed 
elder  brothers  willing  to  acknowledge  the  kinship. 

When  he  had  finished  his  mother  kissed  him  and 
his  father  said,  "It  is  for  this,  son,  that  mother  and 
I  have  held  the  old  hill  yonder.  It  is  a  part  of  our 
religious  belief  that  God  put'  the  wealth  in  the  moun 
tains,  not  for  us  alone,  but  for  all  men.  So  it  has 
been  to  us  a  sacred  trust,  which  we  have  never  felt 
that  we  were  fitted  to  administer.  We  have  always 
hoped  that  our  first  born  would  accept  it  as  his  life 
work — his  ministry." 

So  Dan  found  his  garden — and  entered  the  min 
istry  that  has  made  his  life  such  a  blessing  to  men. 

The  next  morning  he  saddled  his  mother's  horse 
early.  At  breakfast  she  announced  that  she  was 
going  over  to  the  Jones  ranch  on  the  other  side  of 
Dewey.  "And  what  are  you  planning  to  do  today  ?" 
she  said  to  Dan  as  he  followed  her  out  of  the  house. 

360 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAST  MATTHEWS 

"I  was  going  over  to  old  Dewey  myself,"  he 
answered.  "I  thought  I  would  like  to  look  the  ground 
over.77  He  smiled  down  at  her.  "But  now  I'm 
going  with  you.  Just  wait  a  minute  until  I  saddle  a 
horse." 

She  laughed  at  him.    "Oh  no,  you're  not." 

"But,  mother,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  I — I  have 
something  to  tell  you." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  nodded.  "You  have  already 
told  me—" 

"Has  Doctor — "  he  burst  forth. 

"No  indeed!  For  shame,  Dan.  You  know  Doc 
tor  wouldn't.  It  was  in  your  letters,  and —  But  I 
have  planned  for  you  to  tell  me  the  rest  this  evening. 
Go  with  your  father  and  Doctor  to  look  at  the  stock 
this  morning  and  write  your  business  letters  while  I 
attend  to  my  affairs.  Then,  the  first  thing  after 
dinner,  you  slip  away  alone  over  to  Dewey  and  do 
your  planning.  Perhaps  I'll  meet  you  on  the  old 
trail  as  you  come  back.  You  see  I  have  it  all  fixed." 

"Yes/7  he  said  slowly,  "you  always  have  things 
fixed,  don7t  you  ?  What  a  mother  you  are !  There's 
only  one  other  woman  in  all  the  world  like  you.77 

And  at  this  she  answered  bravely,  "Yes,  I  know 
dear.  I  have  always  known  it  would  come,  and  I 
am  glad,  glad  my  boy — but — I — I  think  you'd 
better  kiss  me  now.77  So  she  left  him  standing  at  the 
fence  and  rode  away  alone  down  the  old  familiar 
path. 

After  dinner  Dan  set  out. 


361 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE  OLD  TRAIL. 

"...    Those  whose  hearts  and  souls  are  big  enough 
to  follow  the  trail  that  is  nobody  knows  how  old." 


EAVING  the  ridge  just  beyond  the  low  gap, 
Dan  made  his  way  down  the  mountain  side 
into  the  deep  ravine,  below  Sammy's  Look 
out,  that  opens  into  the  hollow. 

For  an  hour  he  roamed  about,  his  mind  upon  his 
plans  for  the  development  of  the  wealth  that  lay  in 
the  heart  of  the  mountain.  After  a  time,  still  intent 
upon  his  work,  he  scrambled  up  the  end  of  the  little 
canyon,  regained  the  ridge  near  the  mouth  of  the 
cave,  then  climbed  up  on  the  steep  slope  of  Dewey  to 
the  top.  From  here  he  could  follow  with  his  eye  a 
possible  route  for  the  spur  that  should  leave  the 
railroad  on  Garber  to  the  east,  round  the  base  of  the 
mountain  and  reach  the  mine  through  the  little 
ravine  on  the  west. 

From  the  top  he  made  his  way  slowly  toward  the 
Lookout,  thinking  from  there  to  gain  still  another 
view  of  the  scene  of  his  proposed  operations  and  to 
watch  the  trail  for  the  coming  of  his  mother. 

Drawing  near  the  great  ledge  of  rock  that  hangs 
so  like  a  cornice  on  the  mountain  side,  he  caught  a 
glimpse — through  the  screen  of  trees  and  bushes — of 
a  figure  seated  on  the  old  familiar  spot.  His  mother 
must  have  come  sooner  than  she  intended,  he 

362 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAJST  MATTHEWS 

thought,  or  else  he  had  been  longer  than  he  realized. 
He  looked  at  his  watch;  it  was  early  yet.  Then 
going  on  a  little,  he  suddenly  stopped — that  was  not 
his  mother!  He  drew  nearer  and  pushed  aside  a 
bush  for  a  better  view. 

His  heart  leaped  at  sight  of  the  familiar  blue  dress 
and  its  white  trimming!  The  figure  turned  slightly 
as  if  to  look  up  the  trail.  The  big  fellow  on  the 
mountain  side  trembled. 

"How  like/'  he  whispered  half  aloud,  "God,  how 
like—" 

Softly  as  one  fearing  to  dispel  a  welcome  illusion 
he  drew  nearer — nearer — nearer.  Suddenly  a  dry 
bush  on  the  ground  snapped  under  his  foot.  She 
turned  her  face  quickly  toward  him. 

Then,  springing  to  her  feet  Hope  Farwell  stood 
waiting  with  joy-lighted  face,  as  Dan  went  stumbling 
in  wondering  haste  down  the  hill. 

"I  thought  you  were  never  coming,"  she  said.  "I 
have  been  waiting  so  long."  And  then  for  a  little 
while  there  was  nothing  more  said  that  we  have  any 
right  whatever  to  hear. 

When  he  insisted  upon  an  explanation  of  the 
miracle,  she  laughed  merrily. 

"Why  it's  like  most  miracles,  I  fancy,  if  only  one 
knew  about  them — the  most  natural  thing  that  could 
happen  after  all.  Dr.  Miles  came  to  me  some  two 
months  ago,  and  said  that  he  had  a  patient  whom  he 
was  sending  into  the  mountains  with  a  nurse,  and 
asked  me  if  I  would  take  the  case.  He  said  he 
thought  that  I  would  like  to  see  the  Mutton  Hollow 
country,  and — and  that  he  thought  that  I  needed  the 

363 


THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS 

trip.  You  can  imagine  how  quickly  I  said  that  I 
would  go.  I  am  living  down  at  the  Jones  place." 

"Where  my  mother  went  this  morning?"  Dan 
broke  in  eagerly. 

She  nodded,  "Your  mother  and  I  are — are  very 
good  friends,"  she  said  demurely. 

"Does  she—" 

Hope  blushed.  "I  couldn't  help  telling  her.  You 
see  she  had  your  letters  and  she  already  knew  a 
great  deal.  She — " 

"I  suppose  she  told  you  all  about  it — my  finish  at 
Corinth — I  mean,  and  my  plans  ?"  interrupted  Dan, 

"Yes,"  Hope  replied. 

"Then  there's  nothing  more  to  do  but —  How  is 
your  patient?"  he  finished  abruptly.  "How  long 
must  you  stay  with  the  case  ?" 

She  turned  her  head  away.  "My  patient  went 
home  three  days  ago." 

When  the  sun  was  touching  the  fringe  of  trees  on 
the  distant  ridge,  and  the  varying  tints  of  brown 
and  gold,  under  the  softening  tone  of  the  gray-blue 
haze  that  lies  always  over  hollow  and  hill,  were 
most  clearly  revealed  in  the  evening  light — Dan  and 
Hope  followed  the  same  path  that  Young  Matt  and 
Sammy  walked  years  before. 

In  the  edge  of  the  timber  beyond  the  deerlick,  the 
two  young  lovers  found  those  other  older  lovers,  and 
were  welcomed  by  them  with  the  welcome  that  can 
only  be  given  or  received  by  those  whose  hearts  and 
souls  are  big  enough  to  follow  the  trail  that  is  nobody 
knows  how  old. 

THE   END. 


OTHER  WORKS 

By  HAROLD  BELL  WRIGHT 

UNIFORM  WITH  THIS  VOLUME 


The  Shepherd  of  the  Hills 

With  Illustrations  by 
F.    GRAHAM    COOTES 

12mo.  Cloth,  $1.50 


That  Printer  of  Udell's 

With  Illustrations  by 
JOHN   CLITHEROE  GILBERT 

12mo.  Cloth,  $1.50 

Ozark  "Life  Stories" 

The  Calling  of  Dan  Matthews 

The  Shepherd  of  the  Hills 

That  Printer  of  Udell's 

With  Illustrations — Uniformly  Bound 

12mo.  Cloth  (boxed),  $4.50 


The  Shepherd  of  the  Hills 

By  the  Author  of 

"THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS" 
"THAT  PRINTER  OF  UDELL'S" 


From  Some  of  the  Reviews 

"There  are  many  bits  of  excellent  description  in  the 
course  of  the  story,  and  an  atmosphere  as  fresh  and 
sweet  and  free  from  modern  grime  as  one  would 
breathe  on  the  Ozark  trails  themselves."— New  York 
Times. 

"Amidst  all  the  ordinary  literature  of  the  day,  it  is 
as  a  pure,  white  stone  set  up  along  a  dreary  road  of 
unending  monotony." — Buffalo  Courier. 

"It  is  filled  with  laughs  and  tears,  this  beautiful 
story,  and  no  one  can  help  laughing  or  crying  in  turn, 
if  his  heart  is  right." — Pueblo  Chieftain. 

"It  is  a  heart-stirring  story.  A  tale  to  bring  laughter 
and  tears;  a  story  to  be  read  and  read  again." — Grand 
Rapids  Herald. 

"The  people  who  move  within  it  are  so  human  that 
the  reader  of  their  story  will  pick  them  out  for  like 
and  dislike,  as  if  he  had  really  known  them  in  the  flesh, 
rather  than  in  the  pages  of  a  book." — Chicago  Journal 

"One  of  the  best  novels  written  in  the  English  lan 
guage  for  over  a  decade.  *  *  *  Good  luck  to  the 
man  who  can  put  upon  paper  so  fine  a  novel  of  Ameri 
can  life." — Pittsburg  Press. 

"One  of  the  really  good  books  of  the  year.  *  *  * 
A  powerful  and  analytical  study  of  character." — Cleve 
land  Plain  Dealer. 


That  Printer  of  Udell's 

By  the  Author  of 

"THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS" 
"THE  SHEPHERD  OF  THE  HILLS" 


From  Some  of  the  Reviews 

"Altogether  an  estimable  story."— New  York  Sun. 
"Done  to  the  life." — Chicago  Tribune. 
"Well  written  and  decidedly  interesting." 

— New  York  Times. 

"A  thoroughly  good  novel." — Boston  Globe. 
"Wrings  tears  and  laughter." — Record-Herald,  Chicago. 
"Absorbing,  thoughtful  novel." — Kansas  City  Journal. 
"Full  of  movement  and  passion." — Standard,  Chicago. 
"It  is  human  to  the  very  core." — Nashville  American. 
"Excellent  character  creation." — St.  Louis  Republic. 
"Wholesome  and  strengthening." — Albany  Press. 
"Rich  in  humor  and  good  sense." 

—Philadelphia   Telegraph. 
"Full  of  thrilling  interest  and  moral  heroism." 

—Pittsburg  Dispatch. 

"Many  well  drawn  characters." — Washington  Post. 
"Has  not  a  peer  in  English  fiction." 

— Providence   Telegram. 

"It  is  strong  and  wholesome." — Chicago  Post. 
"Not  a  chapter  that  is  not  interesting." — St.  Paul  News. 
"Is  a  fascinating  story." — Portland  Telegram. 
"It  should  be  read  to  be  understood." 

— Grand  Rapids  Herald. 
"The  reader's  interest  is  stirred  to  its  very  depths." 

—Omaha  World-Herald. 
"Many  strong  situations  and  some  delicate  ones." 

— San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"The  Ralph  Connor  of  Kansas." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 
"Most  clever,  stirring  and  original." 

— Birmingham  News. 
"A  tale  of  exalted  ideals." — Denver  Times. 


14  DAY  USE 

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LD  21A-50m-8,'57                                 University  of  California 
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